


Love in the Dark

by BlindCupid



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Blood and Gore, Brutal Murder, Dark Magic, Dark Romance, Emotional Manipulation, Explicit Language, F/M, Falling In Love, Horcruxes, I apologize for typos and grammar mistakes that I may have missed, I did not intend for so much sex but it is part of the plot for some reason, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Legilimency, Legilimens, Loss of Virginity, Love Confessions, Minor Character Death, Not Beta Read, Platonic Relationships, Psychological Manipulation, Romance, Severina Snape - Freeform, Smut, Title inspired by an Adele Song, True Love, Violence, fem!snape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:13:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 21
Words: 61,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23162287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlindCupid/pseuds/BlindCupid
Summary: Severina Snape hears Sybill Trelawney's prophecy but is stopped by Dumbledore before she brings it to the Death Eaters and their Dark Lord. To keep Lily and her unborn child safe, she agrees to be Dumbledore's spy, but how will she navigate this war between Light and Dark? How will she rise in the Death Eater ranks and get closer to the Dark Lord?Between Dumbledore's manipulations and the Dark Lord's charms, Severina has to find a way to end this war before she loses herself and the ones she loves.
Relationships: Albus Dumbledore & Severus Snape, Lily Evans Potter & Severus Snape, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Regulus Black & Sirius Black, Severus Snape/Voldemort, Sirius Black & Severus Snape, Tom Riddle | Voldemort/Severus Snape, Tom Riddle/Severus Snape
Comments: 186
Kudos: 358





	1. Nothing

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文-普通话 國語 available: [授权汉化：〈情不自禁〉](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28991514) by [JonWhite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JonWhite/pseuds/JonWhite)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve taken several creative liberties with canon and timelines.  
> Obviously… 
> 
> Enjoy!

The Dark Lord needed to trust her. Dumbledore had said as much, “You must gain access to his inner circle, but that won’t be enough. He must trust you _above all others._ He must be completely sure of your loyalty and devotion to him. This is _**vital.**_ ”

_Oh Lily, the things I do for you._

Severina wanted to hate Dumbledore, but she couldn’t help but be grateful he stopped her after she heard the prophecy and explained the potential danger for Lily and her unborn child. Severina had gone to apply for the position of Potions Mistress; Slughorn intended to retire and she had been nothing but a lowly laky in the Dark Lord’s service. She needed something to help her rise in the ranks. She thought spying on Dumbledore might be enough. When she’d heard Sybill Trelawney's prophecy, she would have run straight to the Death Eaters right then. Had Dumbledore not stopped her, she might as well have killed Lily herself.

Despite her fallout with Lily, Severina wasn’t willing to sacrifice the closest person she'd ever had to a true friend. Lily was her sister in all but blood; no matter what- always. Nevertheless, the whole situation put Severina in a rather awkward position. Dumbledore wanted her to be his spy; wanted her to go through with rising in the Dark Lord’s ranks. Severina had nothing to offer the Dark Lord in exchange for the Dark Mark. Dumbledore seemed to be under some misunderstanding that the Dark Lord would take any scum that came crawling.

_The fool._

He didn’t understand, it wasn’t that simple. The promise of a spy within the halls of Hogwarts was only enough for an invitation to the Marking Ceremony but she needed to offer something in addition for the Mark itself. The Dark Lord would not settle for less than absolute devotion to himself and to his cause. A potential Death Eater needed something worth a great deal- a gift, an offering, a sacrifice. It was how he determined the worth and devotion of his followers. The more Severina gave the more value he’d see in her.

Death Eaters didn’t fully understand the Dark Lord’s machinations. They joined him, lusting for power, craving freedom in the dark arts, or simply wanting to survive- a join or die mentality. Did they not see or did they ignore, the cost of power, freedom and survival was to sacrifice those very things they wished to gain? It was an empty sort of servitude- mindless, soulless, self-destructive. Severina thought, they must see, they must know but they just didn’t care.

_Maybe, he tricked us or maybe we’ve tricked ourselves._

Why did _she_ want this- power, freedom, survival? What power did she have? What freedom? What life? She had nothing to lose, nothing to give, nothing to risk. She meant take her chance; take what she could get. What did it matter in the end? She had been hopeless and reckless and she hadn’t cared.

Until now. Until it was too late to turn back. Until there was something to live for; something to die for. _Lily._

Severina needed to present the Dark Lord with something worthy of the Mark, but she had nothing. She was a penniless half-blood and ugly to boot. She had her skills and her knowledge and she almost laughed aloud at the thought. She promised those to another. She was Dumbledore’s Potions Mistress at Hogwarts and his eyes in the Dark- a spy for the Light. She felt trapped.

If the Dark Lord found her worthless, she could die tonight. Again, she was plagued with the realization that had nothing to offer. The best she could do was lie. Convince the Dark Lord that she was _his_ servant and not his enemy’s.

She did have one thing but it wouldn’t be enough. Her hand gripped the potion vials in her small velvet pouch- charmed to keep the vials from breaking when stored together. Among the empty vials, only one contained a potion. Severina had tried to brew something that would show her creativity and her innovations in potions. The results of her efforts- a concentrated variation of Felix Felicis, a drop could last an entire day, the bottle, a month. The ingredients had cost her every knut she had.

Severina Snape reached Gaunt Manor with a portkey- a special invitation to meet the Dark Lord himself. When she arrived, she was lead into a large hall, full of Death Eaters- elitist purebloods. How did she ever think she could fit-in here? The room was dark, lit by floating candles burning black flames. Pillars lined the sides of the room, draped in silver and green silken banners that waved like flames, slithering in the absent breeze. Severina felt it gave the illusion of having been thrown into a snake-pit. It was oddly comforting.

“Nervous?” Regulus spoke into her ear. Thankful she'd been occluding, otherwise, she may have jumped at his proximity. He smirked at her. She hated that look on his face; he looked just his brother when he smirked like that.

“Of course I am. I’m not a fool.” She answered, feigning bored.

“You’re smart Sev, no doubt about that, but that doesn’t make you any less of a fool. You should’ve run.”

_Run where? Even now she wondered what other options she had, other paths she could’ve taken to avoid standing here tonight. She kept coming up with nothing. Besides, it was far too late for that now._

“Careful, Black, you almost sound like you care.”

Lucius Malfoy graced the pair with his presence, “Good evening, Regulus, Severina.”

Lucius looked at them with hollow eyes. She glanced at the sleeve of his left forearm. He had waited to receive the Mark until after his honeymoon with Narcissa née Black. Which, in Malfoy style, meant a honeymoon that lasted nearly four months. Lucius had taken his Mark the night before, along with several other wizards from her year. Severina wondered how Abraxas Malfoy was able to delay Lucius’s Marking ceremony for so long and why.

_Does it hurt?_ She wanted to ask him. _Did it feel like death? Does he leave any of yourself behind, or is he a demon that possesses you? A dementor that eats your soul and leaves not but his Mark?_

“I doubt anyone has warned you. The others know; their families would have told them.” His jaw clenched. “The Dark Lord will visit each of you tonight.”

Severina waited for more explanation but he looked reluctant to continue. She looked to Regulus; he’d gone tense.

“There’s more that you are not telling me, Lucius, please.” Oh Merlin, she had taken to begging already. This night was not going well. She needed control over her emotions.

“He… He likes to assert his dominance.” Lucius answered.

“Luc, you’re being cryptic. Usually, I’m all for cryptic but for Circe’s sake not tonight.” She said.

He bent his head down, his lips almost touched her ear as he hissed between his teeth, “He’s going to fuck you all tonight.”

Severina’s stomach gave a painful twist. Her natural complexion was already pasty and pale, but her lips no longer held pigment.

_All of us?_

“Who is to be marked tonight?” She asked.

“Last night was just wizards, tonight will be for the witches; four of you: Bellatrix Lestrange, Alecto Carrow, you and Narcissa.”

His chin quivered fleetingly but his eyes remained blank.

_Oh god, Cissy._

She almost didn't want to know, but she had to ask, “Last night, were you visited?”

“No, our wives suffice. That’s why Bellatrix’s Marking was delayed. Rudolphus made her wait until they were married.”

Narcissa Malfoy stood with her sister not far from them but she didn’t look over at Lucius once; not once.

“But if not married?”

Lucius nodded. “Well, unless they’re too ugly.” He shrugged.

Severina looked at Regulus.

Regulus didn’t meet her eyes, “My mother is delaying my Marking until she finds a suitable wife for me.”

Severina tasted bile in the back of her throat. So, that was how the pureblood families protected their sons, by offering their daughters.

Lucius put in, “I doubt it’ll come to that though,” thinking that would be an encouraging thing to say to the younger wizard. Regulus only looked at the ground in front of him.

Severina turned her attention, again, to her own predicament, “If ugly is a deterrent, perhaps Alecto and I will have a quite enough night.”

Lucius looked at her with an expression she could not read, but he seemed to be studying her.

“Oh, Merlin, Sev, you’re not a virgin are you?”

She just stared at him. Regulus shifted uncomfortably beside her.

“I thought…” Regulus started.

If she wasn’t so nervous she might have been tempted to laugh.

“Oh, do tell. Who did you have in mind?” She asked, in a self-deprecating huff.

Regulus swallowed and she hoped that wasn’t pity behind Lucius’s grey-eyes. Regulus looked like he might say more but his lips thinned as Lady Walburga Black approached, followed by Bellatrix, Alecto and Narcissa. Lady Black walked with her nose inclined, shot a disapproving look at her son and looked down at Severina, “It is time. Follow me.”

Severina fell in step behind the other witches. Narcissa showed none of her feeling but the sharp contrast between her sister’s excited eyes and unconfined smile was enough. Severina thought, if she were more like Lily, she may have reached out to Cissy just then. If Lily were here, she’d know what to do. She’d be able to offer comfort with just a touch of her hand on Cissy’s elbow or with a look and a gentle smile, but Severina was not Lily. Lily wasn’t here. _Thank Merlin for small mercies._

Walburga Black lead the younger witches into a changing room. There was four wardrobes separated by dividers and a house-elf standing in each area holding a black cloak. Lady Black directed each of them to an elf.

“Undress. You’ll appear before the Dark Lord, adorned in only that, which he provides.” Lady Black ordered.

The house-elves helped them undress until they were completely bare and clothed in the cloaks. The cloak was made of the softest silk Severina had ever touched but it was as strong as wool. Throughout the fabric, stitched in fine detail- green and silver threads that shimmered like snake scales.

_Acromantula silk._ Her inner-voice gasped.

Lady Black gestured them out of the room. Bellatrix lead the way, being the eldest in the group, followed by Narcissa, then Alecto and lastly Severina.

The four witches carried gifts, held at the level of their hearts, as they walked; Severina’s velvet pouch cupped in her palms. They kept their heads down, their hoods covered their faces. They were far enough apart not to step on each others cloaks but close enough that together, the shimmering threads gave the illusion of a green and silver serpent rising up and diving down in segments, swimming through the floor.

Severina did not look up when they stopped; she stayed as still as the atmosphere that surrounded them. Not a whisper could be heard, a shuffling of feet, nor a cough. Not a sound was made until _his_ voice cut the silence like a knife through the skin. His voice was strong, it carried to every corner of the room without aid. He had power even in his voice.

Bellatrix presented the Dark Lord with ancient family tomes that were worth more than Severina cared to calculate. It did not help her situation to compare her measly potion with such a gift. Severina wondered at the awe and devotion so evident in Bellatrix’s voice. She sounded like a woman standing at the alter with the man she loved most in all the world. Severina thought of Rodolphus, Bellatrix’s new husband, and wondered what his thoughts might be at this moment. Was it an act? Were they all to play the part of adoring bride, tonight? Is that what the Dark Lord expected? What he wanted? Severina wasn’t confident she could feign love. No, it was better to minimize the lies.

From the edge of her vision, Severina observed Bellatrix pull back her left sleeve and present her forearm to the Dark Lord. He gripped her wrist and his wand tip dug into her flesh. The skin began to writhe and smolder and turn black. Bellatrix groaned and gasped, indistinguishable from pain or pleasure. Finally, the Mark settled into a jet black skull with a serpent protruding from its mouth like a tongue.

Narcissa was next with an equally impressive offering from the Malfoys. Her voice was measured and dutiful. When the Dark Mark was added to her arm, Cissy’s body shook. She cried out in pain before biting her tongue and turning her cries to whimpers. Severina ignored her cries. She couldn’t help Cissy. She couldn’t even help herself.

_All I have is this potion and lies._

Alecto approached with a treasure of dark artifacts. Her voice held awe and fear. She shrieked against the Mark and her body wriggled like a worm.

_Oh gods, I can’t give him liquid luck! What if he saw it as an offense? As though, I thought he needed luck? I should’ve drank the damn thing myself._ _**All I can offer is lies.** _

Severina approached but did not raise her head. She spoke no words as she reached into her velvet pouch. Her hand wrapped around the Felix Felicis. Then she released it, grabbing an empty vial instead. She placed the vial at the feet of the Dark Lord.

For the first time that night, there was noise from the witnesses- indistinct but discernible in its overarching scorn. She kept her gaze on the hem of the Dark Lord’s robes. She sensed the Dark Lord raise his hand and the noise died at once.

His hand entered her vision and Severina was almost surprised to see the slender masculine hand of a man, instead of an inhuman claw. The hand lifted the empty vial off the ground.

“An empty potion bottle.” His voice was flat; she couldn’t tell if he was angry, bored or annoyed.

Regulus complimented her, once, on her voice. So, as she spoke, she focused on making her voice clear and careful.

“My gift to you, My Lord, is a symbol and a promise. It is myself- empty, nothing, worthless. Nevertheless, an empty potion bottle to a true master is filled with potential. A true master may bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death. I am like this vial. I am nothing unless you, my Master, give me purpose. I have no gift for you, My Lord, but myself. All of myself, which is nothing but the potential you see and the purpose you give me. So, I humbly offer myself to you as the only thing I have and the only gift I can give. All, do I give to you and nothing do I withhold; for, I have nothing and I am nothing without you.”

The most honest of lies. She still breathed; that was encouraging.

_See Lily? I can be optimistic._

Severina studied the ground in front of her as she presented her left forearm. Time passed- how much, she was not sure, but it felt too long; her arm grew sore. Was he laughing at her? Were they all laughing at her? No, she heard nothing. Was he displeased? Was he angry? Would death come quickly or would it seem as eternal as this waiting? His hand reached down but not to her uplifted arm; instead he lifted her chin. She suspected what would come next; she emptied her mind. His eyes were blueish green- that’s all she noticed, before his eyes bore into hers and she felt him enter her mind.

_I have to give him something or he’ll break down my walls._ She realized, in a panic.

So, Severina gave him a door, plain and black with an ivory handle- carved into the likeness of two snakes entwining. She hoped it would be enough to entice him away from her walls. She allowed herself to feel a measure of pleasure when he opened the door. On the other-side she had put a table and on the table, the empty vial with a note that read: ‘fill me, as you will.’

She felt his fingers grip her wrist and the tip of his wand press into her flesh. She may have screamed out if he hadn’t still been inside her mind. Instead, she focused on her mental image, directing the pain into the vial, filling it with fire and smoke and tar. Her physical flesh felt like it would melt from her body. A burning in her veins exploded from his wand and shot up to her throat and then to her heart. By the time it reached the rest of her body, she thought she might pass-out. She was sweating and breathing deeply but she made no sound. Her body may have trembled but she did not move away nor drop her eyes from his. Only when the Mark had settled did he release her mind. He took her hand and raised her to her feet. Severina then found her place beside Alecto. She’d done it; her other Master should be pleased.

The Dark Lord spoke, closing out the ceremony and for the first time, Severina examined him. He was handsome, too handsome. She wondered if it was a glamour. He was older, but not as old as she had expected. He looked to be in his thirties but she’d heard that he was of a similar age to Abraxas Malfoy, who was in his early fifties. No wonder Bellatrix sounded infatuated.

Was he vain? Certainly, but about his looks; so much so as to use a glamour? She looked close and noticed that his hair was thinning- it wasn’t obvious, but it was noticeable. Such a thing could be easily remedied with certain potions or charms. So, no he wasn’t vain about his looks. He was naturally this handsome. He used it to his advantage, but it wasn’t his source of pride. Severina took note never to flatter his appearance. If she was to gain his favor, she couldn’t make foolish mistakes like that.

His pride would be in his power then? Though, maybe not. If he had always been gifted with raw magical prowess, there is only little pride in that. To be in awe of his power would be to reveal your own magical shortcomings or insecurities. No, there must be something else that drives him.

Perhaps, his pride was the same as her own. His knowledge. Not his natural physical appeal nor his latent power nor even his higher intellect. It would be the skills he honed, the knowledge he worked to gain, and something else she was missing.

Severina looked across the Death Eaters who paid him rapt attention. It was the influence he gained over them all. It was his control over them.

Her left arm smarted.

_Us._

His control over _us._

After the ceremony, Bellatrix, Narcissa, Alecto and Severina were lead to their rooms. The rooms were not, however, near each other. Bellatrix was lead to the room that she would share with her husband which was also among the other members of the Lestrange house. Narcissa with Lucius and the Malfoys. Alecto beside her brother and father. Severina was lead to an almost obscure wing.

Her room was more modest than she expected, though she wondered why she might have expected more. It was decorated in deep blues and ivory satins. There was a door to an adjoining bathroom and a house-elf was present to help her bathe. The soaps smelt like lavender and sandalwood; with the elf's magic, her skin and hair never felt so soft before. After she dismissed the elf, Severina took out the Felix Felicis and thought of what Lucius had told her.

_“He likes to assert his dominance.”_

It wasn’t lust that drove him to fuck his inner circle, it was _dominance_ \- a power play. Did he think them animals and he alone evolved? What of their placements? He’d fuck them in the beds they share with their husbands, in the rooms beside their fathers and brothers, and their families would believe they were powerless to stop him. The power isn’t in the act itself, however, it’s in the _inaction_ of his followers. By not acting against him, they convince themselves that he is stronger than they are: cognitive dissonance. He’d use their own minds against them. Thus, he gains more power, more control.

_Four witches in one night, he must take a potion or he isn’t planning on visiting all of us. I would be last, in any case. He may not come to me at all. Still…_

Severina lifted the stopper from the Felix Felicis and a golden drop hung, suspended on the tip of the stopper. She lifted it to her tongue. It tasted like wildflower honey.

The effects were immediate. Her eyes dilated and her mind was perfectly at peace. It seemed like a lucid dream. Her body moved and she watched. She did not feel disturbed; no, the potion made sure she’d be at peace with whatever happened. She removed her bathrobe and hung it on the golden hook in the bathroom. She put out the lights, opened the drapes and dimmed the fire to embers. Severina watched herself pull back the satin sheets, climb into the softest bed she’d ever known, before she swiftly fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Link to picset and image sources: [ BlindCupid, Love in the Dark, Pinterest board ](https://pin.it/2jKq3AJ)


	2. Hesitation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Smut.

Lord Voldemort left Bellatrix Lestrange’s bed and cast cleansing charms on himself. She was still moaning and twisting on the bed. Her lips, her eyes, and her body enticing him to stay. The Dark Lord tried not to laugh.

_Well, she was certainly…vocal._

__

It was almost comical. Had he not taken a lust potion before hand, he may have laughed throughout and not have been able to finish.

Now, the fun part.

He left the room looking immaculate as though no more occurred than tea and a polite chat. Outside the door, stood the Lestrange brothers on watch. Rodolphus’s face was as hard as stone but Rabastan smirked as the Dark Lord walked past.

Next, the Malfoys. Lucius and Abraxas stood watch; both greeted him with a bow but were silent as he entered the room. Narcissa Malfoy sat by the fire with her dainty hands folded in her lap. When she noticed he had entered, she stood to greet him.

“My Lord.” She curtsied.

_She intends to bargain with me. Well, this should be interesting. No doubt Abraxas is behind this; he was always a slippery one. Not a bad mind to have in the ranks, though._

“My dear,’ he said as he cupped her hand in a comforting manner, ‘Are you troubled?” He feigned concern.

“No, my Lord, I am not troubled. Indeed I have good news to share with you.”

“Oh?” He asked.

_She’s pregnant._

“I am with child.”

“Really?’ _Obviously._ ‘Lucius must be pleased.” He smirked; then, forced his opposite lip to curl into something more like a smile.

“I haven’t told him yet. I wanted you to be the first to know, my Lord.” She smiled sweetly and glanced down with well-practiced demureness.

_Clever girl. Though, I’m sure this was Abraxas’s intent all along. A four month honeymoon? Like I hadn’t seen through that. Still, flattery is a nice touch._

“May I?’ He took out his wand, asking permission to cast a diagnostic spell. She nodded her assent. ‘A boy? Lovely. Have you thought of a name yet?”

“I had thought Draco a deserving name for Lucius’s heir.” She answered and he was losing interest.

“Draco. A strong name. I heartily approve.’ He took her hand again and kissed it. ‘Under the circumstances I believe I will leave you to get your rest. We will want to take good care of the future Malfoy heir.”

“Thank you, my Lord, you are most gracious.”

_This conversation grows tiresome._

Voldemort existed with a slight bow of his head. Now, to face the Malfoy men and figure out how to pay Abraxas back for this little stunt. The Malfoy men stood straight as boards on either side of the door. He came to stand in front of Lucius and held out his hand to him. Lucius just looked at it for a moment before finally, shaking it.

_Handshaking. What a strange ritual. Yet, such things must be observed, I suppose._

“Congratulations, Lucius. You are to be a father.” Voldemort said; Lucious’s eyes widened. “A boy and heir for the future of the Malfoy line. Your lovely wife tells me that his name is to be Draco.”

_Oh Salazar, he looks like he might cry. If he cries, I might just kill him._

“Go be with your wife.” The Dark Lord commanded with a forced smile and Lucius turned swiftly into the room. _Thank Slytherin._

Lord Voldemort turned to face Abraxas.

_What am I to do with you?_ He sighed internally.

He offered his hand “Congratulations, Abraxas.” _I’ll deal with you later._

Alecto Carrow was next. Least said about that encounter the better. It is certain that a lust potion was necessary but it is uncertain whether or not the Dark Lord felt the need to obliviate himself after. Neither her father nor brother seems to care in any case.

So, it was with a certain weariness that Lord Voldemort found himself in front of the last witch’s room. No one stood watch. No one even slept nearby. No one would know if he went in or not. He could leave and it really wouldn’t matter.

_But she... she was something wasn’t she?_

No. She was nothing. A half-blood, poor and alone, as Tom Riddle had been. Was that why he branded her? It hadn’t even seemed like a good idea at the time. Still, what’s done is done.

Voldemort stood at her door and recalled, when he had entered her mind, the door she given him. He was sure it was a distraction. Still, she had impressed him- to conjure such a thing at such a moment and to use it to control her pain. She demonstrated a capable mind and if there was anything he appreciated in this world, it was competence. Probably, due to its rarity.

He hesitated at her door and that rankled him; that hesitation. She was nothing of importance and yet, he hesitated.

He pushed opened the door. It was dark. The only light was the moon seeping in through the window and the embers in the fireplace. She lay on her side in the bed, asleep. Her ink black hair cascading down her bare shoulder and back. Her pale skin was like alabaster illuminated by the moonlight.

He approached but she did not wake. Her face was plain, her features too sharp to be attractive, but he recalled her eyes before he entered her mind. How they had shown like polished obsidian.

It shouldn’t matter. She isn’t anything.

_She is now; she’s mine._

That’s why he branded her. Why she felt special. Why she looked beautiful. She wasn’t any of those things without him.

But she is now because she’s mine. There is no one outside her door because she’s mine alone, mine completely.

He stroked her cheek with his knuckles and aloud, he breathed the word: “Mine.”

Her eyes fluttered open and all he could see was his own reflection. Like black mirrors were her eyes.

“My Lord.” She breathed.

Oh, Circe, her voice. He had almost forgotten the haunting cadence of her voice.

“I don’t think I’ve ever had a witch fall asleep rather than wait for me.” He said.

“Forgive me, my Lord,’ She sat up slowly as though she were still in a dream. The sheet slipped almost to her nipples before she caught it. ‘I wasn’t sure if you’d come.”

“And why not, my dear?” He asked her.

“Because it was not necessary,” She answered, “I have no husband or family of any consequence from whom you can gain more power.”

_Clever witch._

“What about the more I can gain from you?” He wondered, aloud.

“It’s already yours.” And she lifted her forearm to expose her Mark- his Mark.

_Mine._

“But that’s why I’m here, to claim what is mine.”

He took her hand from her hold on the sheet and it dropped to her waist. He cupped her breast and brushed her nipple with the pad of his thumb. His other hand pushed back her hair from her shoulder. The skin of her neck looked smooth, milky, enticing. His tongue reached through his teeth and a want he recognized but had not attributed to flesh before, beckoned him. He leaned in, lowering his lips to her skin and latched his mouth to her neck, nibbling and tasting her flesh.

_Gods, she feels like ripe fruit between my teeth and she tastes like desire feels._

His hands travelled around her protruding ribs to her back. The skin on her back was distorted, a mess of hardened-waxy stripes. She stiffened at his exploration of them.

“Who gave you these?” He spoke against her skin and continued to trace the patterns of scars on her back.

“My muggle father.” She answered, flatly.

_I’ll kill him._

“Does he live?” He asked mildly.

“Yes, my Lord.”

_Slowly_

“Not for long.” He promised.

Her hands reached for him but hesitated. He hesitated too and he hated it- these hesitations. Why couldn’t he just take her? Why these moments of uncertainty?

Because, this was different, he realized. He never let anyone undress him and never completely. He usually took them from behind and while they were naked, he’d be almost completely clothed. He barely touched them and he certainly would not allow them to touch.

So, he hesitated; because he wanted something different. He wanted his skin against hers. He brought her hands to his coat buttons and he shrugged it off when she unbuttoned it. He took her hands again and placed them on his shirt. She smoothly unbuttoned each until the shirt hung open and he shrugged that off too. Then he stood and removed his shoes and socks and pants; until he was bare. He reached toward the sheet that still covered her from the waist down. Careful only to touch the sheet, he pulled it the rest of the way off; and they were both bare.

He climbed in on top of her but held himself suspended above her. She moved with him, keeping her distance, and lay herself on the bed, waiting for him. He was hesitating. The vision of her filled him like drink. She didn’t seduce or try to coax him into action. She simply waited, patiently; her naked flesh enticing enough. She spread her knees further apart, opening herself, exposing herself. All he had to do was take her. He lowered himself, guiding himself into her, her heat reaching him first and his eyes, of their own volition, fluttered closed. His breath came out in a pant and hissed it back in through his teeth. With a groan he finally thrust into her, swift and deep. She gasped in pain and he felt her hymen around him.

_Mine_

He panted and bit his lips to stay his moans. His eyes were hungry and he could not keep them from feasting on her. Her ribs expanded and pulled against her skin as she breathed, quick and deep. His eyes continued down until he could see how he disappeared inside of her and he choked down the growl in his throat. His muscles strained as he pulled out a little and slid back with force. Over and over like he meant to chisel his shape inside of her.

Thought left him in the feel of her, hot and wet and tight around him, and the want for more consumed him. Each time he entered her, his arms dropped further and further until they were chest-to-chest. The hair on his chest brushed against her nipples and the sounds that escaped her lips were salacious, involuntary, genuine. He was pulling these sounds from her, he alone. She didn't overreact or overdramatize their coupling; it was honest and raw in its intensity.

His face buried in her neck, his nose in her hair and her breath in his ear; he couldn’t stop touching her, his hand ran up and down her skin. He squeezed her thigh and continued down to her knee pulling it above his waist. He angled her hips up and mercilessly thrust into her, hitting the spot that made her moans sound like a song in his ears. Her back tried to arched off the bed but his weight pressed her firmly into it. Her heart beat fiercely against his and a feeling he didn’t understand flared through his body. He gripped her hands which were fisted into the sheets. She hadn’t touched him and he wanted her to- he always hated when anyone touched him, but he wanted to feel her hands. He wanted to be touched.

He turned his head so he could see her face.

“Look at me.” He commanded.

As soon as those black pools met his, he meant to dive into her mind but she had slipped into his as well. He couldn’t tell where her thoughts began or where his ended. It was a mess of pain and confusion and peace and pleasure. A litany of _mine_ and _yours_. His mind was racing and his body sped up, pounding into her until she was clenching around him and he was exploding inside her.

As their connection severed, he collapsed on top of her and she was touching him- caressing his own scarred skin. The air of the room felt cool against the sweat on his back and she felt hot beneath him. His eyes fell heavy and their heartbeats slowed together. He thought he might fall asleep just like this and wondered if he’d ever felt so comfortable, so at peace before.

And it fucking terrified him.

He was off her in a moment and half-dressed, thinking, _Fuck! What the fuck was that? What did I just do? What did **she** do to me?_

He didn’t even process her movements behind him, so fiercely did his mind fly.

“My Lord.”

Her voice was perfectly calm and measured as though they had just finished having tea and a polite chat; that pissed him off. He snapped, turned to her in annoyance and a voice filled with distain as though she were nothing but scum, “What?”

She was on her knees, on the bed, her blood and his cum dripping down her inner thigh, her face was serene and neutral, her posture formal. They might as well been in the Marking ceremony again.

In her left hand she held an empty vial, his Dark Mark contrasting the white skin of her forearm. In her right hand she held her wand, she waved her wand and the blood floated away from her thigh and up into the empty bottle.

Her virgin blood.

“Your first filled vial, my Lord.”

Then she offered it to him.

She didn’t shove it at him in shame or disgust. She didn’t place it in his hands like a lover. She had barely said anything; hadn’t made an elegant speech, asked any questions, demanded or accused him of anything. It was as if all of this was normal, natural and even expected. She simply offered it like a humble servant.

It made him feel like a _god._

At the same time, so glaringly different from a god, he felt humbled. He felt like a man- he felt mortal.

He hated her for it.

He took the vial, turned and left without a backward glance. He hadn’t cleaned himself- his shirt was only half done-up, his jacket open, his hair in disarray, he wreaked of sex, and of her.

_Not that it matters, there is no one to see._

He stood in the empty hallway, his back against the closed door. He stood like that for sometime, thinking. Then, his face turned hard. He straightened himself- cast cleansing charms, fixed his hair, buttoned and smoothed out his clothing. Then, he reentered the room.

She was asleep on the bed- as she had been when he arrived the first time. He cast a charm to ensure she didn’t wake while he was there. Then, he conjured a chair beside the bed so he could watch her face as she slept. He watched her for sometime, thinking. Her even, steady breathes were a metronome for his thoughts, he spoke aloud,

“You’re nothing.That’s what you told me. Nothing, but the potential I see in you.’ He paused and watched her gently pull air into her lungs, ‘You know what potential I see in you? My _**downfall**_ ’ He pressed the back of his wand-hand against his mouth, ‘and I cannot allow that.’ His hand fell, ‘I should kill you now and be done with it.”

The point of his wand raised to her throat, a slicing spell ready at his lips. He hesitated. His wand lowered to a spot on the floor and he rubbed a frustrated hand across his eyes and through his hair.

“How is it, when I walked in here to take everything from you, I walked out feeling like I lost something of myself?’ He studied her face. ‘You’re not even pretty; and yet, when I saw you lying here, bathed in the moonlight, I felt that I’d never seen anyone so enchanting.’

He brushed a hand across her hair, his thumb gently caressed her temple.

“You’d weaken me. I can feel it.’

“I. Cannot. Let. That. Happen. I worked too hard to achieve what I have. I’ll not let some poor half-blooded witch ruin that. You are nothing and you will remain nothing. You will not rise any higher in my ranks. I will not have any direct dealings with you. I’ll not look at you again, I’ll not spare you a second glance. I’ll not even think of you. You will be _**nothing**_ to me.’His hand continued to stroke her hair and trace the features of her face until he reached her lips, ‘I should leave…’

He hesitated; his eyes affixed to her lips as his thumb traced their contours. He leaned in and pressed his lips to hers in a lingering kiss. He remained there, memorizing the feel of her mouth. Her softness, her shape, her smell, her gentle breath on his face.

“Goodbye, Severina.” He whispered, she breathed in his words, and he was gone.


	3. Attention

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of warnings for this chapter: violence, gore, reference to drug use, child neglect and abuse, psychological manipulation, psychological trauma. Not in that order and I’ve probably forgot some... just, reader beware.
> 
> This fic is complete and I’m posting as I edit. I hope to post at least a chapter a day.

“You have to get closer to him.” Dumbledore said in a measured offhanded way but Severina knew he was frustrated. She was too,

“I’ve been trying.”

“I know, my dear, but you can’t give up.”

“I don’t think it’ll matter. I’m a half-blood. It seems, I’m as high in the ranks as I can get.” She said with a sigh.

Dumbeldore looked pensive. He seemed unconvinced that her blood status was the issue but he never explained why. Bellatrix and Rudolphus were rising quickly. So was Lucius. Narcissa wasn’t expected to do much but bring the next Malfoy into the world. The Carrows even got more recognition than she did and they were idiots, but at least the Dark Lord recognized their existence.

Severina would sometimes get obscure potion requests, or she’d write reports about Dumbledore and the Order (which of course Dumbledore screened), then she’d have to pass the reports to some other Death Eater. She assumed they ended up in the presence of the Dark Lord and not on the hearth.

She hadn’t turned out to be much of a spy.

Oh, she was invited to meetings where she sat as far from the Dark Lord as he could put her. The most she could give Dumbledore was dates and locations of revels, names of Death Eaters, and pureblood gossip. It was something but not what he had meant for her to be as his spy. Dumbledore was right; she needed to find a way to get closer to the Dark Lord.

There was a part of her that also _wanted_ to be close him. She wrote it off as Slytherin ambition and she tried to forget her night with him. She had not disclosed much about that night to Dumbledore. He knew the basics, but she didn’t tell him about the vial of her blood. She had been under the influence of Felix Felicis; even after the potion wore off, the decision was shrouded in peace, but she struggled to understand _why_ it was the right decision. In pureblood tradition, giving a wizard your virgin blood was primarily symbolic- a promise of fidelity. Dumbledore wanted her to make sure the Dark Lord would trust her and she’d given him a reason, but it hadn’t helped her gain any favor. She found herself again thinking, ‘what more could I have offered him? What more could I offer him now?’

_Nothing._

The best she could do was offer Dumbledore an alternative, “Walburga Black is having some difficulty finding a wife for Regulus. I think the witches are willing enough but their families want to marry their daughters to heirs. Sirius Black is technically disinherited but apparently that isn’t enough. He is still the eldest. Despite my’ _Hatred? Disdain?_ ‘history with Black, and I’ll add that I have little faith he could pull it off without getting himself killed, but being a pureblood and being the eldest son of an ancient family... he may find himself in a better position to rise within the Death Eater ranks.”

“Hmm… and what of Regulus? Have you noticed any hints of dissension? Could he or another be persuaded to defect?” Dumbledore asked.

“Maybe Regulus, I think he misses Sirius. Not that he ever talks about it, but he’s also been one of the most aggressively indoctrinated into the pureblood agenda. It would be difficult without good incentive. If we could meld the two brothers together they’d be the perfect wizard for the job, so to speak.”

“Hmm… If we brought the two brothers together… Good thinking, my dear.” His bright-blue eyes twinkled and he smiled warmly.

Severina’s pulse fluttered. She almost liked Dumbledore in these meetings together. Just the two of them, talking and plotting over a game of wizard’s chess. She never had much of a father, that’s for sure. Severina wondered if it was intentional. If he treated her in a more fatherly manner in order to manipulate her. She couldn’t remember him being like this when she was a student. At least not towards her.

Sometimes, it was enough to make her feel as though she were going insane. He’d be so kind to her; he’d be patient with her when she was in a bad mood, just smile at her with such warmth that it would disarm her completely and she’d forget why she was upset. He figured out her treats were dark chocolate truffles and made sure to have them present during their meetings. He would, also, stop at her office with new potion supplies or books he thought she might like.

Then, he’d ask something of her. Little things but it felt like he was training her to say “yes” to him. When she finished with whatever project he assigned her, he’d say, “you’ve done well, my dear” and he’d squeeze her hand, or pet her hair, or peck the top of her head.

She hated how much it affected her, how much she needed it. She thought he must know it, too. He’s doing it on purpose. She couldn’t help but suspect he was working his way up to asking something unforgivable of her.

Oh, but that wasn’t even the worse of the manipulations. He kept Lily from her. Severina could only see or communicate with Lily if Dumbledore approved. The manipulations where subtle and the only hint she had was this feeling that set unsettled in her gut. She wasn’t sure how he was doing it exactly. Whenever Lily came by, Severina would be out on an errand, most often for Dumbledore. If she was given leave from the castle to visit Lily, Lily would be out.

Lily and Severina wrote to each other, of course. It always felt like a reward, like a privilege. If she hadn’t turned spy, she wouldn’t have Lily back in her life at all and Dumbledore knew it. He would always catch her eye whenever Lily’s letters came. He doesn’t have to anymore, she seeks out his eyes on her own before she opens her letters. It has become something _more_ than a habit.

One morning, when Dumbledore was absent, she had gotten a letter from Lily. Severina still looked over to his empty seat that morning and didn’t open the letter until dinner, after she had met his twinkling eyes. Later, before she’d gone to her chamber for the night, he kissed the top of her head and said, “you’ve done well, my dear.”

She hadn’t needed him to explain what she’d done well.

“There’s a revel tonight. Some muggle village. I haven’t been told where or when yet. It’s to be surprise, for some reason. ”

“If there is an opportunity to gain the Dark Lord’s attention,’ Dumbledore paused, studying the chessboard before him, ‘Do what you have to.”

His knight took her queen. In three moves he’d have her in check-mate. She pushed her King down and it knelt on the chess board- surrendered, perfectly submissive. Severina looked up at Dumbledore’s blue-eyes and bowed her head before she took her leave.

It was not long after she had left her first Master, when her second summoned her. The Mark on her arm seared her flesh and she hastened to follow the summons. Severina hoped she would have an opportunity to stand out from the others tonight. Which of her Masters she hoped to impress, she wasn’t entirely sure- both, she supposed.

Once she reached the apparition point, she closed her eyes and focused on the Mark on her arm. She would not know where to go but if she apparated while focusing on the summons, she’d arrived at the meeting point. She cast the spell and felt the magic pull her away.

When Severina opened her eyes, she thought she must have entered a nightmare. She stood on her darkened childhood street at Spinner’s End in Cokesworth, surrounded by Death Eaters. She could see the mill and smell the stench of the polluted river. The nostalgic aroma engulfed her. She could see her parent’s house from where she stood. If she turned her head she could see the park where she and Lily first met and only a little further down the street, Lily’s parents’s house

_Oh, Lily… What if I can’t save them? How will you ever forgive me?_

They all stood at attention as the Dark Lord appeared before them. He wore a black-hooded cloak and a glamour whenever he was out. He looked like Death had come to call. He had pale almost translucent skin, a chalk-white, skull-like face, snake-like slits for nostrils, red eyes and cat-like slits for pupils, a skeletally thin body and long, thin hands with unnaturally long fingers. He was terrifying to behold.

“Good evening my friends. You may be wondering what we are doing in this Muggle shit-hole.” He chuckled and his Death Eaters smirked and laughed in response. “We are here to have some _fun_. If you have a new spell you’d like to try, or just some target practice, if you like. Have at it. I’m not sure the muggles will even care about this place.” He laughed again.

“Severina.” He called out her name.

Her heart froze in her chest and a lump formed in her throat, threatening to choke her. She suddenly and so very clearly remembered his promise to her that night he visited her,

_“Who gave you these?” He asked as he touched the scars on her back._

_“My muggle father.” She answered._

_“Does he live?”_

_“Yes, my Lord.”_

_“Not for long.”_

It would seem that the Dark Lord keeps his promises. Severina stepped forward,

“Yes, my Lord?”

“You will lead us in tonight’s revel. Come.”

He held out his arm with much pomp, gesturing for her to come to his side. When she neared, he presented his arm like a gentleman offering to escort her home. She placed her hand atop his and he walked her to her parents’s front door.

And then, he knocked… he fucking knocked.

On the other side of the door, she could hear her father’s voice. “Eileen! The door!”

Severina could imagine him now, drunk off his ass watching telly. While Mum was most likely slaving away in the kitchen. Not that she didn’t give as good as she got.

“Get it yourself, you lazy fuck!” Was her mother’s answer.

The thing that disturbed Severina the most about her parents’s relationship was how they loved each other. They treated each other like shit, but they loved each other. They supported each other in everything- in their drug addictions, alcohol, infidelity, violence; they both did. Her mother had left as many scars as her father, they just weren’t the kind you could touch. For some reason, it was harder to hate her for it, maybe because she was her Mum.

So, here she stood at their door, with Death by her side and Severina realized that as much as she had thought she hated her parents, she didn’t want to kill them. It didn’t seem to matter what she wanted or whether or not she was ready. Death lifted his hand and blew the front door into pieces; splinters bouncing off an invisible shield he must have erected for them and she was looking into the terrified faces of her parents. It took a moment for them to recognize her.

“Sev’reena?” Her father slurred, confused from the couch. Beer bottle still in-hand.

Her mother stood in the doorway to the kitchen, looking between her daughter and the Dark Lord. Her Mum looked scared out of her mind.

Severina wondered how long she’d have to draw this out or if she could just kill them quickly. Death’s voice spoke softly to her, “Make him suffer, as he made you suffer.’ He moved behind her, wrapped his left arm around her waist, his hand splayed on her stomach and lifted her wand arm with his right. Severina’s wand pointed at her Da. He whispered into her ear, his voice like silk, ‘Have you ever performed the Cruciatus curse?”

“No.” She breathed.

He pressed his body flush against her back, “Remember, Severina, magic is all about intent. Merely uttering the incantation is not enough. You need to mean it, want it. Want to cause them pain and take pleasure in their suffering.”

_Oh gods, how was she going to do that?_

She closed her eyes. She remembered her parents sitting on their bed, tying tourniquets around each other’s arms, taking turns inserting a needle and filling their veins with heroine while four year-old Severina stood starving in the doorway. The memory shifted and Severina was about 14. Her Da collecting money from some random bloke who then went up stairs to fuck her Mum. How her own father turned to her and looked her up and down as he counted the bills and the bed upstairs creaked. “Too bad you’re so ugly. Could whore you out too. Useless… not even good enough to get fucked.”

Her eyes snapped open and the incantation rolled off her tongue. The magic flared and struck Tobias Snape in the chest. He writhed and screamed, limbs flailing about, flopping like a fish on land. His beer bottle shattered across the wall, leaving a stain of amber liquid on the faded wallpaper. Her mother screamed out in horror.

The Dark Lord held her firmly to himself and she thought he may have nuzzled her cheek. Severina ended the curse and stepped forward; the arm around her waist fell away. She stood over her father and cast _sectumsempra_ , slashing her wand across his chest but her mother dove in front of the curse. Eileen Snape’s body fell atop her husband’s, a deep cut opening her back. Severina was splattered with blood.

She just kept casting and slicing until she was drenched her parents’s blood and she stood in a warm pool of it. Then she stumbled backwards, shocked by the decimation she’d caused to the now lifeless bodies of her parents.

“Severina.” _He_ called out to her; she turned to face Death and wondered if he was pleased. He just stared at her face, splattered in blood. He was in awe but she couldn’t understand. Had she done what he wanted? Had she given him enough?

He offered his hand to her and she took it. He walked backwards out of the house, still staring at her. When they were outside, he turned her around.

His cold lips caressed her temple, as he said, “Now burn them to the ground.”

So, she did. She burnt her childhood home to the ground and her parents together. Her stomach threatened to rid itself of its contents. If it had she would’ve tasted the dark chocolate truffles Dumbledore buys for her, only they’d be mixed with bile and smell like blood and fire and burning flesh.

She schooled herself, turned slightly to her Master and bowed, making sure to _thank_ him before she walked away. She did not see him watch her go, nor see how his eyes follow her down the street.

 _Don’t run._ She kept telling herself. _Don’t be sick and for Circe’s sake, don’t cry._

She walked all the way to the Evans’s house. She passed all manner of depravity along the way. Screams of terror and pain, but she kept her eyes ahead, kept her ears closed, and kept her wand fisted at her side.

 _Please, don’t let them have been at home tonight._ She thought as she walked up to the door. It was still shut. The Death Eaters hadn’t reached this far yet. She unlocked it and slipped in, warding it behind her. The lights were off in the house.

“Mrs. Evans? Mr. Evans?” She called out and ran upstairs to the bedrooms still calling out to them.

A bedroom door opened and Petunia stepped out in her nightgown and curlers in her hair.

“What the bloody hell are YOU doing here?!” She screamed.

“Where are your parents?” Severina asked in a hurry.

“I’m not telling you a damn thing! What’s that you’ve got all over you?” Petunia berated her in a high-pitched squeal.

“Damn it Tuny! Look there are fucking Death Eaters outside right now killing everyone! Where are your parents?!”

Her mouth snapped shut and her eyes went wild with fear.

“Th-they’re at Lily’s tonight,” She croaked out.

“Good, um… do you know if your floo is set up to the floo network?”

“Yeah, Lily’s husband had it set up for us, but I’ve never used it.” Petunia whimpered.

“Okay, fuck… um. You’re gonna use right it now, you understand?”

“But…”

Severina dragged Petunia behind her down to the sitting room with the fire place. She started the fire with her wand and started desperately checking the mantel for floo-powder.

“Where’s the fuck is the fucking floo-powder?” Severina growled to herself.

“Umm… it’s here…”

Petunia went over to a bookshelf and took down a vase but her hands were shaking and she dropped it. The floo-powder scattered everywhere.

“You ninny! Quick, try to get a handful!”

They were both on their hands and knees scrapping up the scattered magic dust. Once Severina had about a handful she stoved it into Petunia’s nearly filled fist. She pulled Petunia to her feet and held her shoulders and spoke to her as though she were a small child.

“You need to throw that floo-powder into the fire. Then, you need to step inside and say very very clearly: Godric’s Hollow. Can you do that?”

She shook her head, tears streaking down her face.

Severina tried again, calmly but harshly, “Listen to me. If you don’t, you are going to die. You have to do this.”

Petunia whimpered and nodded her head; turned to the fireplace and threw in the floo-powder. The fire burst into cool green flames and the hearth, opened up wide enough for her stand in. She seemed to be frozen in place.

Severina’s voice forced the word, “Go!” with the last of the air she’d held restless in her lungs.

Petunia stepped in with a quick gasp, enunciated, “Godric’s Hollow.”

Once Petunia was gone, Severina burned everything- igniting the bookshelves, the furniture and particularly the pictures on the walls. She burned the the foyer while she reached behind herself to open the front door. She turned to what should have been the blackness of night and her heart screamed in silent terror as her magic pulled-in on herself to defend against the monster who stood on the doorstep. The hooded figure raised his unnatural face to her fully; his red eyes glowed with reflecting flames.

As soon as their eyes met, he pushed into her mind and she had little time to think, but her magic immediately pushed back against his intrusion and she was inside his mind. Every memory was but a glance; she saw herself standing above her parents bodies, covered in their blood. Severina’s own mind was horrified at the sight and the anguish intensified as it juxtaposed his emotion attached to the scene- desire and lust but also, pride and admiration. The image was torn away only to reveal another- A Death Eater meeting. Lord Goyle was saying something inane, in the memory only a muffled sound came from Goyle’s mouth, but for a moment the Dark Lord’s eyes flicked to the end of the long table just in time to see Severina’s eyes roll. The feeling of amusement, and… it was cut off by the image of the Dark Lord sitting at a desk holding one of her reports, his fingers brushed over her handwriting on the parchment and that fleeting emotion from before- longing. As that memory was torn away, it was unclear if the next was her own or his. She was underneath him, her legs wrapped around his waist, his body moving over her and inside her; a feeling she didn’t, herself, understand overwhelmed them both.

The connection broke and she was thrown against the wall, pinned by the hard unforgiving body of… whom? The Dark Lord? A monster? Death, himself? All around her, everything was burning, and Death (she was sure it must be Death, for whose devouring kiss could at once evoke terror and relief?) he lifted her up, wrapped her legs around his waist and slammed her back against the wall, forcing the air from her lungs. His lust pressed hard into her, causing indiscernible pain and pleasure. His lips moved to her throat and Severina’s head fell back as her eyes caught Lily’s smiling face, burning to ash.

“Severina.” Her name groaned from the Dark Lord’s tongue was hot against her collarbone.

“We should leave.” She answered, detached from the effects of his touch.

His deep laugh rumbled against her chest, “Before we burn, I suppose?”

“Before we burn.” Severina repeated, in a hush.

He lowered her to her feet and looked into her eyes. She was more prepared this time. Severina let herself remember his weight as he lay, sated on top of her. How she held him and been comforted. Her finger traced the scars on his back and wondered at the similarity to her own. She wanted to keep touching him and never stop. She had hoped, despite how hopeless, that he might fall asleep so that she could keep him there; like holding to a dream within a nightmare. She let that memory fade and called forth another. Bellatrix’s promotion to Lieutenant, he had kissed Bella’s hand and Bella sighed and blushed. Severina felt her own jealousy renewed and saw flashes of her imaginings of the Dark Lord and Bellatrix together; wondering if he had been the same with Bella as he had been with her. She let him feel her desperation to be closer to him and the forbidden longing to be favored by him.

She blinked and her eyes beheld the Dark Lord’s face. No glamour, his naturally, too-handsome face; now, smeared in blood from his chin, to his cheeks and to the top of his lips.

“It’s too late.’ He said, ‘We’re already burning.” He cupped her cheek and kissed her deeply before he tore away and left her alone in the burning house. She didn’t watch as he pulled up his hood and returned his glamour; she was too focused on standing- her adrenaline crashing.

Severina couldn’t stay any longer. She slinked into the ally and apparated back to Hogwarts, far from the maddening screams and the roaring flames. It was late, she was alone on the moonlit path back to Hogwarts. She cast a disillusionment charm and held herself together long enough to stumble to Dumbledore office.

The door opened for her, as though it had been waiting. When she entered, Dumbledore stood up from his desk and walked around to the middle of the room. He was wearing the most ridiculous outfit; sky-blue with happy-drifting clouds and sun rays that shown through to create silver-linings. His office smelled like lemon drops and lavender, a bowl of dark chocolate truffles sat on his desk- waiting for her. His face was full of concern as he took in the sight of her. Severina didn’t want examine whether or not it was sincere.

After Severina informed him of the revel’s location and the Aurors were sent for, Dumbledore continued to look at her, expectantly. Severina swallowed down the ash on her tongue and rasped out,

“I think, I got his attention.”

Dumbledore opened his arms to her and she nearly ran to him, wrapping her arms around his slim torso. Surely, she was bloodying his silver-linings. Nevertheless, his arms settled around her shoulders as he kissed the top of her head and said, “You’ve done well, my dear.”

Severina wept into his robes, melted into him and held him tighter. She wondered if that was all it took; the promise of these words and a little affection from this man. It scared her, how much she needed his attention and what she was willing to do for it; and she thought, _What have **I** done? What have they done to me?_

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your kudos and comments!
> 
> Also, I know the coronavirus pandemic is ongoing and I hope you are all keeping healthy and staying safe!  
> I am curious, however, if there are other introverted individuals like myself whose response has been along the lines of:  
> “So, what you’re telling me is, you want me to stay home and only interact with people if absolutely necessary? Well, it’s about time society conformed to my way of thinking.” ;)


	4. Precipice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut... later.

“I am very sorry about your home Mr. and Mrs. Evans. Though, you should know, it was for the best I burned it. It seemed, the Dark Lord arrived just after Tuny was able to floo out.” At least she hoped it was after, when he arrived, she doubted she’d still be alive otherwise.

Mrs. Evans consoled, “Oh, don’t worry about it, dear. It was only stuff, anyway. At least we are all well and together; that’s what counts but, I do worry for you, so. You are far too young to be mixed up in all this.”

“The Wizarding world is at war, it seems. War has a way of calling those who are too young.” Mr. Evans spoke, more to himself than any in the room. Severina thought he must be recalling his own war-torn world of his youth.

Petunia came in and placed a slice of sponge cake in front of her.

“Oh umm… Thanks,” Severina said.

Tuny gave her a wobbly smile. It hadn’t occurred to Severina until later, how strange it had been for Petunia to be in the house that night. Severina hadn’t seen her in several years, but the last she heard, Petunia was to be married; apparently, the bloke called it off. Lily said it was because Petunia had told him about Lily being a witch; he freaked out and left. Petunia only ever wanted to be normal. It turns out, that may never be an option for her.

Especially, with the attention she was currently being paid by one Peter Pettigrew. He seemed determined to heal her broken heart or, Severina suspected, take advantage of its being vulnerable. He followed her around like a fat little puppy dog. It was sickening, really. He was always at her elbow with an earnest little smile. All Tuny had to do was breathe and Pettigrew would be ready to flatter her for her deepness of breath.

“This is really the most delicious sponge cake I have ever had the pleasure of tasting. You truly are a marvel in the kitchen, Miss Evans.” Pettigrew stuttered about his compliments while shoveling bites in his mouth and never once looking away from where Petunia was. The strangest thing about the whole thing was that Petunia seemed to enjoy his attentions. She blushed and thanked him and offered to make her famous roast for him sometime.

Severina couldn’t decide whether or not to break down into hysterical giggles (despite how out of character that might be-she’d blame her recent psychological trauma) or vomit the tea cake all over carpet. It wasn’t the only strange occurrence in the room, Sirius Black caught her eye and was trying to share a conspiratorial look with her. He winked and waggled his eyebrows in a most absurd fashion.

She almost admitted to herself, though she most certainly wouldn’t admit it to Lily, or to anyone else for that matter, but the Marauders weren’t so bad. After Severina and Lily had reconnected, she and the Marauders had come to a truce. Potter was still distrustful but he kept his mouth shut for the most part. Pettigrew stayed out of her way. Lupin was cordial and not a bad conversationalist. Sirius, well Sirius, was somewhat flirty; the way he was with everyone but had not been with her, before.

Severina was grateful for the sponge cake in hand when Lily came into the room looking for someone to pass baby Harry off on. Thankfully, he ended up in his grandmother’s arms. He was almost five months old now; Draco Malfoy almost six.There was something so profoundly disturbing about seeing a baby after seeing death. Like you’ve just witnessed the cycle of life in a glimpse.

How surreal it all felt. She had just killed her own parents and now she sat eating cake and wondering about the silly little lives of the people around her. Severina wished she could run; run far away and never come back. Another part of her, however, wanted to be held again; someone external to hold her together, while she internally shattered.

That’s how her soul felt- like shattered glass. Not broken, but still together, a whole piece of glass with cracks all throughout. She thought if she could touch it, it would crumble with the barest provocation and scatter across the floor.

Her Mark tingled; not in a way it had before. It felt warm, not burning-hot like a summons. Her hand fisted and Severina excused herself to the loo, pushing her plate of cake into Pettigrew’s hands who merely “ooed” in delight. As soon as she barred the bathroom door, she pulled back her sleeve, to reveal the black tattoo on her forearm. It was moving; the snake slithered in an eternal dance and the skull smirked at her.

She knew, if she touched it, she’d feel nothing but her own skin. Still, Her right hand trembled as it neared the Mark. Her finger traced the snaked, and it shivered under her touch.

_“Severina”_

She snatched her hand away. It was _his_ voice in her head. She stared at the Mark. The skull silently laughed at her. The Mark warmed and tingled. She swallowed and placed her fingers again on snake.

 _“Severina, come to me.”_ The Dark Lord’s voice commanded in her head.

“As you wish, my Lord.” She answered.

The voice chuckled.

“Severina,’ Lily knocked and called through the door. Severina dropped her sleeve. ‘Dumbledbore’s just floo-called. He says he needs you back at Hogwarts.”

Her Master had decided she’d had enough free time, then. She flexed her left hand; both of them, it seemed. Severina opened the door and came face to face with her friend, Lily. Severina smiled sadly,

“Tell him, I can’t come yet. I’ve been summoned. He’ll know what that means.”

Severina started walking off but Lily stopped her and pulled her into a hug. Severina wanted to cry. She wanted to melt into the embrace and never let go. She allowed herself a moment to soak in what little comfort she could from her friend- her only true family.

“Be safe, Sev.”

Severina nodded and left.

She arrived at Gaunt Manor, just before dusk. Everything felt still, lifeless. She must have been the only one called. She expected as much, but facing the reality sent a frost up her spine. Not that she’d be in any more or less danger. The presence of Death Eaters would not give her any amount of comfort or security.

This deviation, however, unsettled her. A house-elf apparated her straight to the Dark Lord. She wouldn’t know what wing she was in or where within the Manor she was. She would be practically trapped with him and most likely alone.

She found herself in, what appeared to be, the Dark Lord’s private study. He stood behind a desk that must have been extended by a charm to hold a plethora of scrolls and tomes. His brow creased in thought; he held a quill and was writing something on a piece of parchment, while glancing over at the tome beside it.

He hadn’t shaved, the short facial hair left a shadow below his chiseled cheeks and strong masculine jaw, down the muscles on his neck and accentuated his Adam’s apple. When he looked up and saw her standing there, the crease in his brow disappeared and his lips turned up.

“There you are. Come.” He stepped back and gestured for her to come around the desk.

As soon as she neared, his hands reached for her and with the faintest of touches guided her to stand between him and the desk. He stood behind her like this before, she remembered, and pointed her wand at her parents; now, he pointed at a piece of parchment on the desk.

She read it; a potions recipe but she had never come across a potion like this before. It was completely new to her. Severina’s breath quickened and a heat rose in her gut, suddenly energized at the prospect of a new potion- a challenge for her mind and for skills. She touched the parchment and read name aloud,

“Emerald Potion: Drink of Despair?”

The Dark Lord hummed his assent as he brushed her hair away from her neck. She bent her head instinctively and he spoke against her tender skin,

“Brew this for me.”

She swallowed. His facial hair scratched her neck while his hands followed the slight curve of her waist to her hips and neared her thighs. She read the instructions, letting her finger guide her down the parchment. It stopped on a certain ingredient.

“Nagini vemon? This ingredient is unknown to me… but then also, the antidote is added? This potion is both a poison and its own antidote. Is it for torture?”

“Hmmm.” His lips vibrated against her neck and she felt the hardness of teeth nibble her sensitive skin. She hissed between her teeth but was undeterred,

“Do you have this ingredient?”

He stilled his attentions to her body and rested his chin on her shoulder, with a sigh,

“I will have, once I find her. Shouldn’t be long now.”

“Her?”

He chuckled and wrapped his arms around her middle and pulled her to his chest,

“A snake-form Maledictus. Her name is Nagini. She was around during Grindelwald’s war. Last sighting of her is said to be continental Europe.”

“Was this potion created during that time, then? Is it a translation from one of these other texts?” Severina looked over to the other texts on the desk but none of them looked like any modern language. They were ancient texts, some hardly preserved.

The Dark Lord laughed, “These are merely inspiration and it is quite more recent than Grindelwald’s time. I’ve only just put the finishing touches when you walked in.”

She turned in his arms, “You created this?”

“Don’t sound so surprised,” He smiled down at her. It unsettled her, how much this man smiled and laughed. He cupped her cheek ever-so-gently, and that unsettled her too. It felt unreal; he was a dream and a nightmare twisted into some apparition of reality.

“You will brew it for me.” He commanded her again.

“Yes, my Lord… I can start preparations now.” She moved to turn away from him but he stopped her.

“Later. Come.”

He led her by the hand to an adjoining room. It was a large bedroom with a four poster bed and not much else. She realized their destination and stopped,

“My Lord, this isn’t necessary… I’ll brew the potion there is no need to,’ she swallowed and didn’t meet his eyes, her face twisting into disgust, ‘seduce me.”

She still didn’t look at him but she could see, out of the corner of her eye, his head cocked to the side.

“You’ve said that before. Do you remember? You said, I hadn’t needed to come to you, that it was ‘not necessary.’”

“It wasn’t…”

“No. It wasn’t and yet, I stayed,’He started to undo her robes, “because I wanted you,’ He peeled each layer off her body and let it fall to the floor, “I want you now.’ He paused, ‘Do you want me?”

He lifted her chin and met her eyes but did not try to enter her mind. He waited for an answer. She should lie, she knew, but how could she? She didn’t even know what the truth was.

Severina gave no answer but to lift her lips to his. His eyes closed and she wondered how much of this was act. She wished he wouldn’t. He didn’t need to act with her; it, really, wasn’t necessary.

He lips and tongue moved over her own her as he continued to disrobe her. She started on his clothes, remembering that he had wanted her to undress him last time. Once they were both naked, he sat on the edge of the bed and pulled her into his lap. His eyes never left her; his attention was intoxicating and her head felt light and dizzy from the intensity of his gaze.

They couldn’t seem to stop touching each other. Even when she raise up and lowered herself over him, taking him in fully, it felt more like relief than intrusion- another way to touch each other. She moved over him, feeling him slide in an out of her like he had before; only, this time she was the one controlling their coupling while he stared up at her, his eyes never leaving her face.

She had never felt this way before. She could hardly name it. She wanted to push the feeling away, keep herself safe from it and it’s terrifying strength.

She felt like she stood at an invisible precipice. She did not know what might be on the other side but it felt all consuming and there might not ever be a way back. She could so easily lose herself in this moment, forget who this man was and simply fall into how he made her feel- safe and wanted. He hadn’t reclaimed control, didn’t even seem to want to. He wanted her to take him; he was giving her this power and Severina felt the pull of gravity from precipice acutely.

She looked into his eyes. He really was so beautiful and he was looking at her as though she were beautiful too. It was too much and she looked away, stilling her movements.

 _It’s only manipulation._ She told herself.

He rolled them, positioning her on her back and himself above her. He was rocking into her, never leaving her body too much or for too long. His lips claimed every bit of her skin they could reach- his mouth, tasting, nibbling licking. He bent down, arching his back and neck to reach her nipple, sucking it into his mouth and moving his tongue over the tip. She gasped and her inner muscles started to contract. His hips sped their pace; his strokes coming long and swift, as he switched his mouth to her other nipple.

Her involuntary cry tore through her throat; her back arched almost off the bed and her whole body tensed as her orgasm overcame her. He began to pound into her. Through the fog of her thoughts, she could hear the slap of skin and feel his muscles tense and still as the pushed deep inside her one final time. He was looking at her; his muscles tensed again, the veins in his neck pushed against his skin, he groaned and spasmed inside her again as the orgasm’s aftershocks took him.

Severina trembled fiercely and tears fell from the corners of her eyes down her temples; she could barely breath. Her head felt light and her thoughts scrambled but there was this ever present and overwhelming emotion that hung over both of them.

She held his gaze and she pulled him into her mind. She wanted to share it with him. Though, she wasn’t entirely sure why. It was too late, though, like a great gust of wind had pushed her over that precipice and she’d reached out, grasping for something to save her, only to have pulled him in with her. Once he was in her mind she let him see all she felt at that moment: the confusion, the doubt, the desire, the longing, the hope and the overwhelming need to surrender to it all.

“Severina…” His breathy sigh echoed in her mind and in her ears.

He left her mind and he was kissing her, so gently, so tenderly. Such a man shouldn’t be capable of this.

_If this is a manipulation, it is so much worse than anything Dumbledore has ever done or could ever do to me._

And Severina wondered if that precipice hadn’t been her sanity.

———

When Severina woke, she realized something peculiar; the Dark Lord had fallen asleep in her arms. Their bare skin touching everywhere they could- their bodies entwined, his head on her chest just above her breasts.

She had tried to leave last night but he’d held her back and in a cold commanding voice,

“You are not dismissed.”

How changeable he could be. It could’ve been unsettling if she didn’t understand it so well; she was that way too.

His hair tickled her chin; she brushed a gentle hand through it. He smelled like sweat and his hair was oily. How human he was. He even snored a little and she thought she could feel a bit of drool on her breastbone.

She wanted to imagine that it was real, that it was normal. She pressed her lips into his hair and stroked her fingers down his back and arms. He groaned and started to stretch out his muscles. Every inch of him rubbed against her.

He snapped his head up and looked at her with a dangerous fire in his eyes, like he meant to kill this intruder in his bed. Madness must have over taken her because her face smiled and her nose giggled.

His face softened and Severina couldn’t help but think, _He’s adorable,_ his hair mussed, a boyish pout and a mischievous glint in his eye. Mentally, she should really slap herself for thinking such a thing about the Dark Lord.

“Good morning, Severina.” His voice was deep and raspy from sleep and he had morning breath; and Severina thought, _This is the Dark Lord? The most feared dark wizard in all of the United Kingdom?_

“Good morning, my Lord.”

He looked confused for a moment before it transformed in to smug confidence and an air of superiority. He pulled her underneath him, and she could feel his erection, hard and hot against her thigh. She wiggled her hips and groaned. He started kissing her neck and she turned her head to give him greater access; as she did so, the dawning light bathed her face.

“I should be at Hogwarts. I have class.” She stated 

He stilled and where his hands were, he squeezed painfully and she winced. When he sat up, it was definitely the Dark Lord that looked down on her, like she were a bug beneath his foot.

“Of course. We wouldn’t want Dumbledore getting suspicious of his little spy.”

Her blood froze. She occluded but wondered if it hadn’t been the wrong move. He was studying her face, while his showed no emotion but disdain.

“No, my Lord. We wouldn’t want him to know where my true loyalty lies.”

She lifted her hand to his cheek, to emphasize her point. She was slow and careful, with much intention, like nearing your hand to a venomous snake. A strange hypnosis must have overtaken her because, why would she ever pet a snake so venomous unless it had entranced her in some unfathomable way? This snake hadn’t bit her yet; instead, he leaned his head into her palm, like she held the balm to his soul.

“Come back to me, tonight?” He asked against her palm. It was a question, she was sure. Dumbledore asked things of her all the time; the Dark Lord, never. He only ever commanded.

It unnerved her, these changes in their routine. He wanted something different from her but she felt like she was grasping at air trying to understand it, still falling from that precipice. Was he falling too or was he pulling her down?

He had said to her, _It’s too late, we are already burning._

Perhaps he was right. They were burning and now they were falling too. Her mind conjured an image from long ago, when she was a child and the muggles told her about that eternal burning pit, where the witches are thrown. She’d been thrown into hell, and she was taking the Dark Lord with her. Severina raised her head and kissed him- deeply and lustfully, demanding and claiming, but he did not fight her; he did not battle for dominance. He surrendered to her kiss- falling.

She pushed him on his back; reached between them and guided him into her. She rode him fast and impassioned, his hands gripped her thighs. She canted her hips as she moved and he let out a low growl. His hand struck out, grabbing a fist full of her hair on the back of her head and yanked her down to kiss her hard.

Severina didn’t slow her pace. He kept her face close to his but he broke his attack on her mouth to moan against her cheek,

“Sev…er… Fuck. Slow down. I’m going to cum…”

Severina shook her head against his cheek and whimpered, “I want you to…” She bit his neck and sucked hard. His neck went taunt and she felt his groan on her tongue. His hips thrust up and his arms tightened around her. She slowed, gently moving and kissing him through his aftershocks.

Sweaty and panting, he chuckled and kissed her shoulder. Severina let her forehead fall against his collarbone while she huffed her own amusement. He brushed her hair from her face with both hands and held her hair back to look at her. Something mischievous glinted in his eyes,

“Your turn.” He said with a growl. 

“Wha…? Ahh!” and Severina found herself on her back with the Dark Lord sensuously kissing down her body. She turned her head toward the window, and realized she was going to be quite late.

———

Severina missed breakfast in the dinning hall but had miraculously managed to make morning classes. At lunch, Dumbledore caught her eyes and slipped seamlessly into her mind without warning. Had she not anticipated this, she may not have noticed. She had already sifted through most of her memories, only wanting him to see the potion and not what had happened after. Surely, he suspected but he could very well ask her like a normal human being, thank you very much.

Dumbledore called her to his office after dinner. The bowl of chocolate truffles were gone, he did not sit at the chess board and that warm smile she had come to depend on was absent.

_He is displease with me. I’m being punished._

He stood, feeding Fawkes and motioned for her sit; she did and remained silent, waiting for him.

“I’ve been mediating on the potion he’s asked you to brew. Perhaps he means it to be a form of protection, for a small object. Have you seen anything? A powerful dark object of some sort? Something sentimental? Maybe both?”

“Not that I’ve noticed, but I’ll keep my eyes open.”

“Hmm.. Yes, please do.”

She nodded. He hadn’t so much as looked at her and she felt like she was dying a little inside. She stood and turned to leave, her shoulders and head drooped without her realizing it. Before she could reach the door, his voiced called her name. She turned and he had moved to stand in front of her. She couldn’t help the hope in her eyes when she met his soften faced.

“Did he force you?” He asked; concern lacing his voice.

Her eyes dropped and she shook her head.

“Not that you could say no to him…’ Dumbledore said, “Severina, you’re an intelligent and capable witch and I’m sure he knows that. I was surprised that he hasn’t tried this tactic with you sooner but I had hoped…’ 

He sighed, “I only want to put you on your guard, my dear.’ He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, “He’ll want you to believe that you’re in love with him… but Severina, he cannot love. He is incapable of it.’

She looked up, his kind blue eyes full of sadness and concern.

“Yes, I knew him when he was a student. I think you should know a little bit about his origins… You see, he was conceived because of the use of a love potion. It may be a side affect of the potion…’ He looked away into an unseeable distance as if in remembrance, ‘I had hoped to encourage him, as a student, to make healthy connections with others. Sometimes I thought that he had… but ultimately, all I had done was encourage him to learn how to use others. He broke many hearts in pursuit, of whatever it was, he wanted from them. I fear he is doing the same with you.”

Dumbledore reached up and cupped her cheek. His thumb brushed a tear from her cheek that she hadn’t known was there. He bent down and pressed his warm, soft lips on her forehead and said,

“You’ve done well, my dear.”

“Thank you, Headmaster. I’ll be more guarded in the future.” Her voice was more timid than she’d heard in a long time.

He sighed and nodded.

“Oh, Severina, I almost forgot and I hate to ask but… Minerva seems to have come down with something this evening. Could you supervise her detentions and take rounds for her tonight? If the illness continues, I’m afraid I’ll have to take her classes for her. Hopefully, it won’t come to that.” His cheer had returned and he smiled warmly, waiting for her answer.

“Yes, Headmaster.” She bowed and existed his office.

After supervising detentions, she went to her room to review her lessons for the next day. She had a couple hours before she had to do rounds. Her sitting room was bare- she hadn’t many possessions and Slughorn hadn’t left much. On a shelf, with a fews books, sat a bottle of firewhisky. It had been a gift from the other professors.

_“Welcome to Hogwarts faculty, Severina!” Hooch thrust the bottle into her hand, “You’re going to need this.” They all had laughed and patted her on the back._

She didn’t want to need it. Never wanted to need anything like that- anything so addicting. She witnessed what addiction had done to her parents and she didn’t want to be that way- not ever.

Dumbledore’s face appeared in her mind and his gentle voice saying, “You’ve done well, my dear,” and she wanted to cry out and weep and scream- “I don’t need you!” but it’d only be lies in the dark emptiness of her room. She remembered, also, how the Dark Lord had looked at her last night; how he’d touched her, how he’d made her feel. She didn’t want to need that either.

The Mark warmed and tingled.

_Oh no._

She touched the Mark and his voice hissed in her mind.

_“Where are you?”_

_“Dumbledore is keeping me at Hogwarts tonight.”_

Her hand fell and she gasped. Dumbledore was keeping her at Hogwarts on purpose… She’d known hadn’t she? That he had been displeased and that she was being punished somehow…

Perhaps, he just didn’t want the Dark Lord to have too much control over her, too much easy access? He wanted to protect her, keep her close… or keep her under control? Had he lied about McGonagall being sick? Surely, he wouldn’t have gone so far as to poison her…

The Mark warmed again.

_“Does he grow suspicious?”_ The Dark Lord’s voice asked. 

_“He means to keep me from you; keep me under control,”_ She thought. 

_“He’s always been a manipulative bastard.”_

_“Strange, he says the same about you.”_

The voice laughed, _“Is that what you think?”_

_“Of course. Why else would you want me?”_ She pulled her hand away. She hadn’t meant to think it, but it was her own thought. Had he not been in her mind, he should never have heard it.

Her Mark remained cold for the rest of the night and her bottle of firewhisky was a glass empty.


	5. Manipulation and Conversations

Lord Voldemort had called a Death Eater meeting. He looked around and took stock. Abraxas wasn’t present. It hadn’t been as satisfying a punishment as he had hoped. A few rounds of crucio, was all he’d been able to find the energy for. Since, Abraxas cared so much about his legacy, Lucius was to take his place but at a demotion. 

Lord Orion Black was missing from their meeting, as well, and Lady Walburga Black represented their house solely. At least until her son took the Mark. Orion Black had suddenly become unwell. Voldemort wouldn’t be surprised if Walburga was poisoning the man. She’d be the type. 

He observed the faces of his followers and wondered when he’d gotten so bored with all of this. 

His eyes landed on Severina and that calmness, that peace that always seemed to accompany her, overcame him. It wasn’t a universal effect, he noted. Many of his Death Eaters disliked her presence altogether. Indeed, her presence seemed to antagonize them. 

Personally, he found it hilarious. He even chuckled to himself aloud. Everyone looked at him but none commented. They all sat, waiting for him. He wondered how long he could keep them here, in this quiet anticipation. Perhaps, he would test them another day and see who squirmed first. 

“My friends, thank you for coming today. I am afraid that I must leave you for a time. I must away to the continent.”

“You will not be gone long?” Bellatrix’s voice pleaded with sweet earnest. 

He walked carelessly over to where Bella sat and reached out to lightly stroked her hair. She leaned into his touch and nearly purred like a cat. 

“No, my dear Bella, I shouldn’t like to be away from you all for long.” He answered and looked up toward Severina. Her face was neutral, attentive, and completely unaffected. He was both impressed and annoyed. He wished to see inside her mind and know what she thought of him touching Bellatrix in this way. 

He hadn’t called her since Dumbledore had tightened his hold on her. Dumbledore was trying to turn her again him, that old bastard! Voldemort hated how the old codger had twisted Severina. 

Dumbledore had tried to twist Tom Riddle too, once upon a time. He had always been watching Tom in such a way that made young Tom’s skin crawl. Brave Professor Dumbledore, with his honied words and empty promises, with those blue twinkling eyes always watching, hands always touching, warm silken tongue… 

Voldemort felt bile rise and and his fists trembled at his sides. 

“Await my call after the new year. You are all dismissed.” He forced his lips upward in some semblance of a smile. 

They all stood almost simultaneously. He shook himself mentally, blinking rapidly as if to reset his mind.

“Severina, stay a moment.” He called out as she neared the door. Severina stopped and arched her brow. It was involuntary, he knew. So, he’d gotten a reaction out of her, after all.

Once they were alone, she asked, “Yes, my Lord?”

“Oh, don’t be like that.” His charming smile, revived a little in her presence.

“I don’t know what you mean, my Lord.”

Voldemort sighed. His fingers itched to touch her but he hesitated.

“I believe, you’re upset with me.”

“No.”

“No?”

“Why should I be upset with you?”

He gave her an impatient look.

She huffed, “I’m just confused, I don’t understand what you want to gain from me. It’s simply not neces…”

He grabbed her by the waist and pull her against him, their hip bones crashing together. 

“Don’t, say it! I’m getting tired of this little game of yours. You are _**mine**_ , Severina.” He snaked his fingers up her neck, “Are you not? I can do whatever the fuck I want with you. It hasn’t a thing to do with being necessary or not.’ His fingers slithered into her hair, “I’m getting rather disturbed that you keep forgetting that. To whom do you belong, Severina? Where do your true loyalties lie?”

She hadn’t reacted. He gripped her hair forcefully. 

“Say it!” He snapped, his teeth bared.

With a calmed measured voice she answered, “With you, my Lord. I belong to you. I am yours.” Her voice cracked a little at the end and her eyes looked glassy with unshed tears.

His body relaxed and he brushed his fingers gingerly through her raven hair. He leaned in, brought a handful of her hair to press against his lips, and breathed in deeply. He felt like he could finally breath again, for the first time since he’d been with her last, as if being separated from her was akin to holding his breath. Now, surrounded by her scent and her cold calculating aura, he was soothed. 

He sighed, “As far as manipulation is concerned, it is simply a thing all people do to each other. You think you haven’t manipulated me? You most certainly have.” He spoked into her hair, his eyes fluttering close, as he held her body close. 

“I wish I could take you with me.” He said so softly, that had he not be positioned so close to her ear, she may have missed it. He leaned back, his eyes roaming over her, “I wish I had time to enjoy you before I leave.” 

She was always so stoic, it thrilled him to see the minute shifts. Her breath and pulse quickened. Her jaw relaxed and her lips parted just a little. Her pupils dilated- difficult to observe in her obsidian eyes which were flecked with silver, but it was the most entrancing thing to observe; as her pupils dilated, the silver flecks were swallowed up, like a great blackhole had overtaken the night sky. 

Her hands came to rest on his chest, just above his heart. 

“You’ve found the Snake-Maledictus?”

He blinked and nodded. “Yes, you’ll have your last ingredient, my little Potions Mistress.” He chuckled at the slight blush to her cheeks. He had, of course, observed her excitement over the Emerald Potion. She had been more excited about brewing than about being seduced at the time. He found it completely endearing, not that he’d ever admit it. 

“Will you miss me?” He surprised himself with the question and her as well- her eyes widened. 

He noticed, of course, that she didn’t answer his question, but he decided it didn’t matter as her lips found his. She was kissing him with some unnamed emotion that spoke more than any other answer could. 

———

Sirius Black sucked the end of his cigarette with purpose, his throat and lungs filled with the burning sting of smoke and nicotine. He hadn’t had a proper conversation with his brother in… he wasn’t sure when.

Regulus Black sat across from his brother. Neither seemed to know quite how to begin.

“So…” Regulus said. 

“So…” Sirius replied. “How’s umm… Father?” 

“Not well.”

“Do they know what’s wrong?”

“Not really… There’s little hope he’ll survive the year.”

“I see…”

Sirius studied his brother. He looked so young right now- upset about their father. Dumbledore had suggested he reach out and dropped a few hints that he might be able to convince Reggie to defect. Sirius wished he knew how.

Sirius cleared his throat.

“Look I know I haven’t been around and I’m sure Mother wouldn’t want me coming over. Not that I really want to.” He couldn’t help the derision in his voice but he wished he had been more careful because Regulus went even more rigid. He continued quickly, “But we’re brothers Reggie, that’ll never change. I’m here. I haven’t always been but I’m here now. You can always come to me… for any reason.”

Regulus shook his head and stood. He started to turn to walk away. Sirius stood up to stop him, but Regulus seemed to change his mind about something and turned enough to look his brother in the eye.

“Father has refused to write you out of the will. As it stands, you are still heir Black. I think Father would like to see you before he dies. If you really are still my brother, then come home and be the Black you were always intended to be.” Regulus spoke like a man, in a tone reminiscent of their Father. 

Sirius stood speechless as he watched his brother walk away from him. Tears sprung and anger flared. So, he did what he’s always done when things got too serious. He drank. 

Which is probably why he did what he did next. 

———

“Sssnnaipe!” Sirius Black’s slurred voice called from the fire. 

Severina looked over at the firewhisky and imagined what would happen if she poured it on his face through the floo. She chuckled to herself and ignored him.

“Snaaapee! Snap Snape snappity snapity Snape! I neet to tawk to you!”

“Go sleep it off Black! Shouldn’t you be off fucking a werewolf somewhere? Preferably in the moonlight?”

“Oh, fuck you! You nasty bitch.” 

His face disappeared for twenty seconds before it reappeared.

“I really nee ta talk to ya…I tawked to Reggie taday. I donna who else to talk to…”

Severina stilled, her interest peaked.

“Step through.”

Sirius Black came through her floo, soot clouded around him. Severina sighed and mumbled, “I have very little patience for drunkards, so you’ll be drinking a sober-up potion, Black. Wait here.” 

When she returned, he still stood where she left him, covered in soot and swaying like a leaf in the breeze. She shook her head, handed him the potion which he downed as she cast a cleansing charm.

She made him sit and handed him a glass of water. He stared at it a moment before looking up at her with a flirty smile and a wink.

“You’re not so bad, Snape. 

Severina rolled her eyes,

“How’d things go with Regulus?”

Sirius turned serious. _Damn Orion and Walburga for naming their son after that particular constellation. Idiots._

“I hardly know what to think of it. He said Father’s sick and that he might not live the year.’ Severina raised an eyebrow, she had heard he’d been sick but not that it was life threatening. ‘But that’s not the strangest thing, apparently my old-man hasn’t written me out of the will.”

“Well that explains…” Severina started but stopped herself.

“What?”

“Walburga has been having difficulty arranging a marriage for your brother because he isn’t the heir. You are.”

“Marriage? But he’s barely out of Hogwarts.”

“Lily and Potter married at 19. Cissy’s our age and Draco is only a month older than Harry.”

“I s’pose… Anyway, he said I should come back home. Like, I’d ever willingly step back into that hellhole.”

Severina watched Sirius. She’d rarely seen him so unguarded before and wondered at him being so with her. He hadn’t looked at her the entire conversation, she might as well have not been there at all. He stared at his glass or at the fire. So, she was almost surprised when he looked up and his eyes bore into hers, 

“What’s it like being a spy?”


	6. Venom

Deep within a forest in Albania, Lord Voldemort hissed to his new companion. 

_“I must insist we make one additional stop before we head to my home in Britain.”_

_“If you command Masster.”_ Nagini hissed in contempt. 

Lord Voldemort chuckled, _“You know it was by chance that I discovered this special ability of being a parselmouth and the heir of Slytherin. I had commanded a grass snake to crawl into bed with the warden at the boys orphanage, in London. I had only thought it would be funny to see that human-boil of a man scream like a little girl. Oh, and he did! I thought he might pop and explode into puss, piss and shit.”_ Voldemort laughed loudly and cackled until it petered out to a chuckle. The amusement still in his voice as he continued, “Indeed, he had pissed himself, and he was still screaming like a little girl as he picked up the snake and dashed its brains out all along the wall. It had only been a harmless grass snake.' 

_“It wasn’t until I had been a student at Hogwarts that I was able to uncover my heritage and what it truly meant to be a parselmouth. I discovered that I not only could speak and understand snakes but could actually command them, even against their own will.’_ He smirked. 

_“It had been a few years later, and yet, I still thought about that grass snake’s blood and brains that smeared the wall of the warden’s room. Indeed, the stain was still there. This time, I found a pit of adders and ordered them into the warden’s bed. The next morning, he really had become a bloated boil. Puss and blood seeped from the fang marks that covered his body.”_

_“For the grasss ssnake, you did thiss?”_ Hissed Nagini. 

Voldemort shrugged. _“He was only a muggle… and well… he had this habit of standing in doorways and watching the boys bathe and change. For punishments, he would f…”_ His voice threatened to crack. 

His jaw tightened, his mind emptied, and his eyes hollowed. With an unaffected tone he hiss, _“No matter, that was long ago. I have personal errand to run, at present.”_

He looked down at Nagini with a perfectly pleasant and carefree smile. 

———

Nagini watched from a distance, just as she was commanded, while this “Master” of hers talked with some aged and weakly wizard. They were both cloaked in black and met in the shadows. The haggard wizard handed her Master an old leather-bound book. Her Master opened the book and examined its contents before he seemlessly pulled out his wand and in as much time as it took for the eyes of the old man to widen, a flash of green-light tore from his wand and struck the old man in the chest. The man fell instantly dead, limbs twisted and limp, at her Master’s feet. 

She watched him walk carelessly back to where he had ordered her to stay. His eyes were bright and his smile happy. He lifted the book, showing it off to her. 

_“Got it.”_ His smile was almost child-like in it’s joy. 

Her scales shivered. Had she had her human form still, she’d have vomited and cried and tried to run. As it was, she had long since lost her human form. She was stuck, trapped to this darkened wizard. 

He was twisted inside. She was twisted inside too- twisted into the form of a snake. Her affliction was bodily, however, his was something else…

She observed him closely as he brought her to his home, run by house-elves- looking ragged and tense at his arrival. They looked at her with fear and apprehension but somehow they knew to fear him more. She could sense it, taste it with her tongue. Their fear rolled off of them in such thick-hot waves, they might as well have been on fire from fear of him. 

She watched as he took the book and laid it out on a desk in a large study… She had almost forgotten what it was like to be in a human house. The room tasted like him. She was completely surrounded by his scent, but there was something else too… 

He went to a bookshelf and pulled out a small box. He pointed his wand at it and spoke some words. It opened and out of it, he pulled out two items: a signet ring and a vial filled with a red liquid. 

With the items in hand, he open the book to a certain page and read the book for sometime without moving. When he finally moved, it was to place the ring on the desk; with his wand he made a small cut on his thumb and let his blood drip onto the face of the ring. Then he took the vial and unstopped it. 

Nagini recognized the scent from earlier, the one she could not place. Now, the taste was potent. Something about it was almost pure- like innocence. It was sweeter and lighter, almost refreshing in comparison to the suffocating darkness that emanated from her Master. 

He picked up the ring and held it in his palm. The vial, he held posed above the ring. He began to chant in an ancient tongue as he poured the vial’s contents into his palm. Nagini watched, expecting the red fluid which she knew now was blood, to cover the ring and pool in his palm, but it didn’t. The ring swallowed it up- the blood swirled and seeped into the ring, leaving only a red filling on the signet. 

When he was done, his breath was deep and harsh. His eyes entranced upon the ring, and a smile grew. He looked again, child-like. Like a boy whose eyes shone with wonder at the existence of magic. She had seen similar looks before… at a circus… but the memory faded and she could not grasp it back. 

Her Master lifted the ring to his lips and kissed it, his eyes closing tightly. He smirked and placed the ring on his pinky finger. 

He looked up at her, _“There’s someone I’d like you to meet.”_

———

Severina sat, staring into the fire; tear-tracks staining her cheeks, her eyes sunken and framed by dark circles. Her hair was stringy and greasy, her skin sallow, her bones more prominent.

She’d been careful to wear a glamour when out. She had spent Christmas between Hogwarts, the Malfoys and the Potters. Never had she had so many people interested spending time with her over the Holidays. She was even invited again to the Potters’s for the New Year, in three days- together with the Evanses and the Potters and all the Marauders. 

Sirius Black had spent an hour at Grimmauld Place on Christmas Day. His Mother was unhappy (to put it lightly) but Regulus had been able to distract her long enough for Sirius to see his Father. Orion Black’s health was rapidly improving. Sirius and Regulus had written to each other nearly every day. Everything was going according to plan. 

Dumbeldore had been training Sirius since he’d come to the decision to spy for the Order. Severina was anxious for it all to be over and done with. She was ready to not carry this burden alone. Sirius seemed to think they had some sort of bond now. She supposed they did but she didn’t think her recent rising would last. The Dark Lord would be done with her as soon as she finished the Draught of Despair. Sirius would be the reconciled pureblood heir from a prestigious family. He’d be a much more interesting prospective Death Eater than she herself had been. 

Soon… she’d be free. Free from Dumbledore’s manipulation, free from the Dark Lord’s attention. Soon, it’d be Sirius’s burden to bare. She should probably feel bad for him, but she was too tired to care for anything but the prospect of her own relief from the situation. 

She could hardly remember the last time she slept. She breathed out a sobbing breath. She had tried to shower. She’d taken off her glamour and her clothes, when a sharp pain ripped through her. She collapsed on the floor and writhed. She felt like she was being ripped apart inside, like her soul was being torn asunder. She could do nothing but endure. She did not know how long it lasted but when it ended, she felt heavier and lighter at the same time- like she had been emptied inside only to have a great burden thrown upon her. 

She stood, using the sink basin to pull herself up. Her reflection caught her eye in the mirror and she saw her own skeletal face, decay before her eyes. Then her face transformed and she saw her mother staring back at her, cuts all over, and blood pouring forth. A vision of blood seeping from the bottom of the mirror, pouring down into the sink, filling it to the brim and overflowing onto the floor until she stood in a pool of it. 

She’d stumbled from her bathroom and found herself, sitting naked on the sofa, staring into the fire with the bottle of firewhisky in her hand. It was still mostly full, only one glass had she drunk, but she’d picked up the bottle countless times, now. Her hand trembled violently the closer the lip of the bottle came to her own lips. 

_Just like a kiss. Lip to lip. A kiss. A kiss…_ Her mind chanted. 

_**He**_ had kissed her while he’d looked like a monster, like Death, and she’d kissed him back. Her parent’s blood smearing against their mouths. _Had it been the blood on their tongue, or his own flavor that had tasted acrid?_ Surely, no kiss could be more damaging to her soul than that one had been. 

Her lips touched the bottle’s and she tipped it back slowly, letting her tongue reach out toward the liquid. Only a drop had touched the tip of her tongue when her Mark began to burn. Her arm spasmed and the bottle fell, with a _thud_ between her feet and the liquid poured out with a _glug, glug, glug…_

Severina’s shoulders sagged in relief and she collapsed over her legs. She sobbed. Her tears fell and mixed with the whisky. The Mark grew hot and she reveled in it. 

She felt relief and peace and she soaked in the hope that _**he**_ was back and that he was calling for her. 

Oh gods, she must really have lost her mind. 

She realized then, that she had missed him, worried that he’d forgotten her. How had she not realize before? How had she let this happen? When had she let her guard down? At what point had she come to need him? How had she betrayed herself in such a way?

She sat up and looked at the Mark on her arm. The burn intensified as she continued to ignore it. The snake writhed and the skull’s expression grew fierce. Severina took a deep breath and calmed herself before she allowed her finger tip to touch the snake.

 _“SEVERINA!”_ His voice screamed and her head pounded with the force of it. 

_“You’re back.”_ Her mind sighed in relief. 

He didn’t reply at first, and after a moment, his voice returned soft and alluring. _“Severina, my… I need you… to come to me. I have someone I want you to meet. Do you have the necessary equipment to extract venom?”_

_“I have materials that should suit our purpose… Your purpose, forgive me.”_

_“Our purpose…”_ His voice filled with laughter, but not scathing or condescending. He sounded happy. Severina’s eyes fell shut and two more tears pressed through her lashes and fell on her cheek bones. _“You’ll brew the potion here, I’ll want to supervise. It is my potion after all. And Severina?… Don’t keep me waiting.”_ The Marked cooled. 

Nervous energy washed over her. She vanished the firewhisky, all of it. She splashed her face with water, careful not to look in the mirror, cast a glamour, dressed herself, gathered all she needed, and left… Without informing the Headmaster. She hadn’t meant to, she’d simply forgotten. Undoubtedly, he’d know without her telling him but he’d be unhappy. 

———

Severina arrived at Gaunt Manor and was once again apparated into the Dark Lord’s study. This time, the room was neat and orderly. The only thing on the desk was the Dark Lord, who casually leaned against the front. His arms crossed lazily across his chest, his sleeves rolled up on his forearms. He wore no tie and his shirt was undone at the top, exposing the entirety of his neck. He looked relaxed and happy. She almost didn’t want to disturb him. She wanted to observe him like this. It make her feel like it was completely normal to want him, to need him the way she did. 

His face was turned to the side and his mouth was moving as though he were speaking, but all that Severina heard was hissing. Her brow crinkled and she looked in the direction he was. She bit down hard on her tongue when she first took-in the enormity of Nagini. She looked between the snake and the Dark Lord and realized they were talking. 

“Parseltongue…” The word escaped her. 

The Dark Lord and the gigantic snake snapped their attention to her. The Dark Lord’s easy grin transformed into a beaming smile. He strode towards her and immediately she was in his arms, their lips entwining. His hands came up to cup her face and touch her hair. 

He broke their kiss and looked hard at her. He looked angry. She didn’t understand. What had she done wrong? She looked up at him, more vulnerable than she’d ever let herself be around him, and tears welled in her eyes. 

He ran his fingers through her hair, and groped her body, as though he were examining her. All the while his eyes were hard, his brow was wrinkled and his jaw was taunt. 

“Take off the glamour.” He commanded.

She dropped her eyes to the floor and removed the glamour. Her eyes met the snake’s. Nagini’s tongue was tasting the air rapidly and her head was tilted to the side. Nagini seemed to be examining her too. The Dark Lord lift her chin. He slipped into her mind, as gently as ever Dumbledore had. 

She showed him what had happened in the bathroom and he pulled out of her mind. She was surprised that he had stopped there. He seemed taken aback. He blinked at her and swallowed. 

“Severina… I…” He pinched his lips together and blinked in rapid succession. He backed away and took his place again on the edge of the desk. One arm crossed over his chest, propping the other up so he could pinch his jaw in his hand. He jerked his head toward Nagini. 

Severina nodded and tried to put his behavior out of her mind as she prepared her equipment. She donned her dragon-hide gloves and took out a large vial prepared with a bit of rubber stretched over the top. Severina measured and enlarged it to fit both fangs. She wasn’t as afraid of the snake in front of her as she probably should’ve been. If Nagini wanted to kill her, well it wasn’t as if fear would save her. Maybe Nagini would strike, tear out her throat; maybe then, she’d get some sleep.

Nagini, however, did not strike out. She merely opened wide her mouth. Severina pressed the vial into her fangs. They sliced through the rubber like with little resistance, like piercing softened butter with a fork. 

Severina knew how to milk a venomous snake, but this was no ordinary snake, she had once been a woman, maybe not too unlike herself. So, Severina decided to tilt her head around Nagini’s open mouth, to look into her eye, and spoke to her directly. 

“Can you release your venom voluntarily, or should I find your gland?”

She heard the Dark Lord’s voice hissing, but the vial was already filling. 

“Thank you, Nagini…” She said, when the vial filled sufficiently. 

Severina stored the venom and backed away slowly. Bowing a little to the snake. She turned to the Dark Lord, who scrutinized her. 

“Where would you like me to set up, my Lord?” She asked.

He still held his jaw in his hand, his grip was hard. He didn’t move or speak. Eventually he dropped his arms, and stood. Without a word, he took her supplies from her and set them on the desk behind him. Then, he turned to Nagini, hissed and bowed. 

Severina felt dizzy with confusion or exhaustion- probably both. The Dark Lord, placed a guiding hand on her lower back and lead her through his bedroom, into his bathroom. The bathroom looked the same as the one she’d used her first night here, the night of her Marking Ceremony. 

He held her hand as he ran the bath. It felt surreal. She hadn’t slept properly in so long, she thought she, may very well, be dreaming. Time didn’t seem to be moving right, like it was skipping. She was naked and so was he, the bath was full. He helped her into the bath, still holding her hand and he climbed in behind her. 

He was working a rich lather into her hair, massaging it into her scalp. Her eyes fluttered closed and she swayed a little, nodding off. 

“Don’t fall asleep, yet. Soon, just stay with me.” His voice was soft and low and she could feel his vibrations through her ribs. That emptiness she felt earlier, she realized, was gone. “Tilt your head, I’m going to rinse your hair.” She obeyed mechanically and without thought. 

He told her wash her face while he washed her body. Something caught her eye in the water. A ring on his pinky finger. Her hand reached toward it. She thought the ring was calling to her. He caught her hand and she turned to look at him. He met her eyes and held them as he brought the back of her hand to his lips.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you wear that ring before.”

He brushed his hand down her hair and stroked her jaw with his thumb.

“It’s family ring. I’ll tell you about it later. Come, lay back.” He reclined and patted his chest. 

She leaned back against him, and let her head fall against his shoulder. He kissed her temple as his hands roamed over her body. 

He cupped her breast with one hand, circling her nipple with his thumb. His other hand drifted down to rub her clit. Severina arched her back and turned her heard to hide her moans into his neck. His breathing was deep and heavy, and his chest hair was course against her back. 

He dipped his fingers inside of her and she gasped when he curved his fingers to rub against a particular spot that made her toes curl. Her hand reached up his neck and she carded her fingers into his hair. He tilted his hips to press his erection against her lower back. His fingers quickened and she felt her inner walls begin to quiver. She shifted her head to lick and kiss his jaw. 

He moved his mouth over hers and with a desperation she’d yet known from him, he groaned into her mouth. His tongue was hot and warm, and moved against her own as if he could taste her pleasure on her tongue. His thumb massaged over her clit and his fingers kept rubbing against that same spot. When her orgasm washed over her, he swallowed her cry of relief and of pleasure.

Severina’s ears were ringing and her vision was spotted and darkening. She fell completely limp in his arms and remembered no more. 

She awoke once during the night only long enough to process that she was asleep in a bed, wearing a bathrobe that was not her own. Arms embraced her in a strong grip and the easy breath of sleep moved against her back and tickled her neck. Severina took the hand that held her, entwined their fingers and drifted off to sleep.


	7. Possession

The Dark Lord, Voldemort, lay in his bed, staring up at the canopy. 

He had been up for hours; gotten dressed, met with the leaders of the vampire clans, made plans to infiltrate the Ministry of Magic, thought out battle plans, contingency plans, who to recruit, who to imperio. He sent correspondence to contacts in Russia, invitations to his inner circle and their families for a New Years celebration and ordered his house elves to make preparations. Through all of this, he had to fight the urge to go back to his bed and to the witch who had slept soundly in his arms for a good part of the night. 

Eventually, he gave in and laid again in his bed with his sleeping witch in his arms. He had pulled Severina onto his chest and just held her. 

She was his, would always be his. He made sure of it. He bound her to his very soul. He hadn’t realized what affect the binding would have on her and he kicked himself for not thinking about calling her to him sooner to observe her. He wouldn’t make that mistake again; he’d keep her close. 

He didn’t want her going back to Dumbledore. Not that the old fool would be able to turn her against him now. No, she’d always be drawn to him. She’d need him as much as she needed food or drink or sleep. She’d always come back to him. 

He pressed her cheek against his breastbone and kissed the top of her head. He liked her hair; it wasn’t lush or beautiful, it was lank with split ends and tended towards oily, but he liked the way his fingers would catch at the ends and how her own unique scent could never truly be washed out. He liked how dark it was, like a bottle of ink had spilt over her hair and would not wash away. 

He waved his hand over her, releasing the sleeping charm. She groaned softly and snuggled into his chest. Her limbs stretched reaching more around him, like she was trying to find a way to climb inside of him. He chuckled causing her to lift her head and face him. Her eyes would always be his favorite feature, but the distinctive hook at the end of her nose was quickly becoming a new favorite and he leaned in to peck a kiss on the tip of her nose.

“Good Morning.” She rasped shyly.

“It’s well after noon.” He informed her with another kiss, this time to her brow. 

“Oh…” She moved to get out of bed but he held her arm.

“Where are you going?” 

She glanced back at him with an arched eyebrow. “To use the toilet if that is alright with you, my Lord.”

“Cheeky, witch.” He released her, “but you come right back.”

“With your permission, my Lord, I would like to start on the potion you’ve assigned me. I shouldn’t like to waste the whole day in bed.”

“I feel I should be offended… No, you do not have my permission and I quite like the idea of laying waste to this bed today.” He crossed his arms behind his head and winked at her. Severina smirked and a blush bloomed over her cheeks before she disappeared behind the bathroom door. 

He stared at the door, listening to her movements on the other side without really hearing. He thought about not letting her go back to Hogwarts. Perhaps, he could keep her here with him. Let her brew to her hearts desire. It was a tempting thought. It would not do to be without a spy, however, and she was the best natural occlument he’d encountered since himself. Also, letting her play both sides gave her a measure of safety; a true Slytherin tactic.

Severina came out of the bathroom, his bathrobe tied tight around her slim waist and almost swallowing her up in its size. He hadn’t cast a shrinking charm, he liked how his robe fit so loosely around her. She hadn’t cast a charm either, he noticed. 

He watched her intently as she approached the foot of the bed and reached for the tie on the bathrobe. She was meticulous and graceful, teasing him with a sliver of skin; he swallowed and felt himself harden. She dragged her finger tips down the opening before pulling the sides apart and his breaths came deep and quick in anticipation. The soft curves of her breasts came into view and his mouth went dry. When the dark and dusky skin of her areola appeared, he licked his lips and sighed between his teeth. Otherwise, he hadn’t moved a muscle. He wondered if he’d even blinked, not that he particularly wanted to. 

She opened the bathrobe the rest of the way and let it slip from her shoulders and down her arms until it disappeared below his view, to pool at her feet. His eyes dropped to her triangular patch of curly black hair pointing between her thighs and perfectly contrasting her pearly white skin. She kept her eyes on his as she crawled on the bed, her breasts falling into soft pointed peaks. 

He thought to reach for her, but restrained himself; he wanted her to come to him. She crawled slowly and gracefully, nearly like a snake and Voldemort shivered to behold her like this. Even when she neared enough to touch, he didn’t move. He fixed his eyes on her. Her hair had fallen forward a little and a strand fell across her cheek but he didn’t move to push it aside. Her face was close, her breath on his lips, 

“Is this what you want? My Lord?’ Her voice was rich and soft and sensual. She ghosted her lips across his but didn’t kiss him, ‘You want me naked and willing in your bed?’ her voice traveled across his cheek, ‘For for the entire day?” She returned her eyes to his and smiled in challenge. 

“You’ve already slept half of the day. So, you see how much time we’ve wasted already.” He teased nonchalantly. 

Her reaction, however, was not amused but thoughtful. Like she’d just found a missing piece of a puzzle that remained unsolved. She wasn’t pretty, but she was intriguing and no more so than when she was puzzled. 

“What is it, Severina?”

“I just don’t understand.”

“Understand what?”

“Why I’m here. Why you want me here with you. I simply can’t figure it out.”

The Dark Lord shrugged his hands free and gave into the urged to brush her hair from her face. 

“I keep telling you. The answer hasn’t changed.’ 

He lifted himself and guided her to lay on her back beside him. Then taking her hand he placed them on the buttons of his shirt. She began to unbutton him slowly, her eyes fixed on her task and her brow still creased in puzzlement. He lifted her chin to look at him, her fingers slowed but didn’t stop.

Voldemort examined her face. She was so young, really, only just out of her teens. She was naive and vulnerable. No matter how smart she was, she was still so far out of her depth. There was a part of himself that felt that way around her as well; like he was out of his depth, like he had stumbled on a path he’d never taken before nor even knew existed. His path to destruction, perhaps. Was that not what he’s known from the first night he spent with her?

Voldemort wasn’t one to accept defeat. No, he foresaw those obstacles and used them for his own purposes. That was why he created the Horcruxes and why he bond her to himself. Not death nor lo… this witch, would have the power to defeat him. He made them his own and brought them into submission. He took those things that were meant to control him and he took control over them instead, before they even realized their purpose. 

“You are mine.” He told her as she finished on his shirt and reached for his belt. Her eyes dropped and her jaw clenched. He grew impatient and undressed himself. She didn’t look at him. Her mind occupied inward. He pushed her legs apart and grabbed her jaw to look at him. He stared down into her face,

“You are mine,’ He pushed himself inside her; her face winced at the rough intrusion and her eyes squeezed shut. He rocked into her, not wanting to pull out too far and lose her warmth. 

“Look at me,’ He gritted out. Her obsidian eyes opened and held a fire of emotion. He pulled out a little and pushed into her deeply, “You’re mine.” 

A tear passed the corner of her eye and made its way down her temple into her hair. He leaned in and kissed its path. In her ear he whispered again, “You’re mine Severina. You’ll always be mine. I’ll never let you go.” 

He sped his pace and followed the slope of her neck with his lips. When he reached the juncture between her neck and shoulder, he bit down hard. She whimpered and he felt it against his tongue as he sucked painfully on her tender skin. He gripped her hips and slammed into her, pounding a demanding rhythm into the witch beneath him. _His witch._

She wasn’t touching him, he realized. Her hands fisted into the sheets and her head turned away from him, her eyes squeezed shut. Lust was pooling his gut and he couldn’t stop. His eyes were drawn to his Mark, and he reached to wrap his hand around her forearm.. 

“You,’ he panted, ‘gave yourself,’ and groaned, ‘to me.”

Her head snapped to look at him, 

“I gave you, _nothing_.” She ground out.

He laughed. He laughed right in her face as he pressed his palm into his Mark on her forearm and her skin warmed the ring on his finger. His laughter turned to groans as he felt his orgasm near. He fucked her hard and deep. He groaned in pleasure through her whimpers as he slammed into her cervix again and again. With one last push he exploded against her walls. 

He collapsed on top of her and panted against her hair. He eased his grip and caressed her skin there. He raised his head a little to bring her fingers to his lips. As he did, he saw the imprint of his fingers blooming into a bruise on her skin. He kissed her fingers and his marks. He lifted himself to see the teethmarks surrounding a deep purpling bruise on her neck. He kissed that mark too. 

“Do you understand now?” He asked softly, as he looked at her face. Her face was calm and blank. 

“Yes, my Lord.” She answered, looking down, not meeting his eyes.

He sighed, slipped from her to roll on his back. He pulled her with him, keeping her against his chest as his eyes grew heavy and he drifted off to sleep.


	8. Suffocation

Severina was sure there had been a shift in her relationship (if you could call it that) with the Dark Lord but it seemed that he had been affected differently than she had. She felt equally repulsed by him as she felt drawn to him. He, on the other hand, was… well it was hard to explain. 

She had started brewing the potion. It would take only a day or two to brew now that she had all the ingredients. The Dark Lord worked along side her, supervising at times, or just watching her, talking with her about everything and anything. Mostly, he worked on creating a charm for a basin that would hold the potion. The charm would cause the basin to refill once it had been emptied. He combined the charm with dark magic, blood magic, so he might vanish the potion himself but only himself. It was a complicated charm and Severina was surprised that he took the time to tell her about what he was working on. 

She couldn’t help but be impressed and she must have let it show because his expression turned smug while he explained his charm and how he created the potion she was brewing. He was intelligent and powerful and ambitious and everything a Slytherin is meant to be. It was as though he’d been molded out of Salazar’s own imaginings.

Severina didn’t know what to think of the Dark Lord. Was he cruel? Was he evil? Was he insane? 

Yes, he was all those things and yet, he sat with her and talked with her like any sane man might. He told her about his travels after Hogwarts. About all he’d discovered, all he learned. His appetite for knowledge and magic was greater even than her own. She had never met anyone who hungered after knowledge like herself. Not any proud-pureblood Slytherin, nor swotty Ravenclaw, not even Lily, felt as insatiate as she did. The Dark Lord, however, consumed it like a glutton. 

As he shared stories and anecdotes, he made witty commentary that, at times, made her laugh aloud. His eyes would shine and he’d smile warmly. He ate every meal with her and made sure she stopped to eat. He would anticipate when she was thirsty or hungry and place tea and biscuits beside her while she worked. 

In the first evening, he read to her while she brewed. The second evening, she had finished the potion and he asked her to read aloud. They sat together on a sofa and as she read, he closed his eyes to listen. He never stopped touching her; his hands carding through her hair or caressing her- stroking her skin wherever he could reach. She only stopped reading when she’d realized he’d pulled her into his lap and was kissing her. 

Each night he took her to bed and he… Oh, how could she describe it? They had sex, yes, but it felt more than that. He didn’t fuck her again like he had that first afternoon. He didn’t exactly claim her either, though, that would probably be more accurate. He almost… He almost made love to her. He was gentle and almost reverent and he breathed her name when he came. Then, he’d hold her and wouldn’t let go until the morning light shown through the drapes and softened his handsome features into something so beautiful it almost hurt to look. 

She felt like she was being suffocated and she wondered how suffocating could feel so comfortable. 

On the morning of the third day, Severina woke to the smell of Eggs Benedict and fresh orange juice. Soft lips pressed against her cheek and warm breath caressed her skin,

“Good morning, Severina.” She smiled as if she were in some sweet and wonderful dream far removed from reality. 

He treated her to breakfast in bed. He was playful and boyishly charming. Once she’d finished eating, he vanished her dishes and tray and broke out in a wide gorgeous grin,

“Now off to the bath with you. I’m going to check on preparations for tonight and I have something special for you to wear.” He winked at her.

“What?” Reality crashed over her like icy water being thrown into her face- actually, the Marauders had done that to her on occasion and she remembered that she was supposed to see them and Lily tonight. 

“Tonight brings in the New Year. It is my duty to host a celebration for my loyal followers and I certainly can’t let you attend wearing my bathrobe… Though, that is a thought,” He chuckled.

“…Of course, my Lord. Thank you, my Lord.” Severina realized she’d never told Dumbledore that she had left. Had he noticed? Had Lily? Would they wonder where she was? Would they worry? What if, they didn’t care at all?

“What’s wrong?” His voice, a mixture of annoyance and concern.

“Nothing… Only, I’m not used to such considerations. So… Thank you.” He seemed satisfied, pecked her cheek and left her alone to bathe.

His attentions were bothersome. It was one thing to say she was _his_ in private, to talk to her and pet her and use her like she was his to do with as he wanted. What was she to him? A pet? A toy? A lover? A whore, more like. Whatever she was in private didn’t matter, really, at least, not to anyone but herself. It was quite another thing to dress her up and parade his half-blood pet in front of his pureblood followers. 

When he returned she still sat in the bath, the water cooling, her knees pulled to her chest and her arms holding them there. 

“Severina?” He approached the side of the tub and knelt beside her. He brushed his hand down her hair, “Severina, what’s wrong? Talk to me.”

Severina turned her head, laying her cheek on her knees to look at him. 

“They already hate me for rising above my station as a half-blood. Most, think you should’ve killed me on the spot for my impertinence rather than give me your Mark.”

Voldemort crossed his arms on the side of the tub and rested his chin on his arms.

He smirked and chuckled, “You were rather impertinent,’ then turning serious, he promised, ‘I won’t let them hurt you.”

“I can take care of myself.” She responded automatically, the statement she’d told herself innumerable times, all her life. 

“Of course.” The Dark Lord replied unamused.

She continued, “Besides, why should they care about your half-blood whore, anyway.” Her expression soured and she looked down at her knees.

“Is that what you think?’ He asked, but she didn’t look at him, ‘Sometimes I forget how incredibly young and immature you are.”

She gritted her teeth and her nostrils flared but she did not respond. He sighed and dipped his fingers into the bathwater, warming it with his magic.

“Can I tell you a secret?’ He lifted his fingers to graze the faded scars on her back, his voice hushed but clear, ‘I’m a half-blood, too.”

She faced him wide-eyed, jaw slacked, astonished; he laughed. 

“It’s true. My mother was a witch and died giving birth to me. My father, a muggle, didn’t want anything to do with me; I grew up in a muggle orphanage.’ He paused,

“Do you remember how you presented yourself to me?’ She blinked at him and nodded, ‘You were nothing but a poor, pathetic, weak half-blood and you knew it. I was once the same as you. I must’ve seen something of myself in you that night... and let me tell you another secret, I learned how to keep those pure-bloods in line and now they posture themselves before me and kiss the hem of my robe. I can teach you the same, would you like that?

She stared a moment unblinking. Then she swallowed and nodded.


	9. Reconciliation

Sirius followed his father, mother and brother into a large ornate room lit by an enormous candlelit chandelier. Below the chandelier, floated an enormous clock that was ticking backwards, counting down to midnight. Everything was ivory and gold lined. House-elves popped in and out serving food and drinks. Music was playing, a whole orchestra, by the sound of it, and when Sirius looked for the source, he saw an entire orchestra of charmed instruments lining one corner of the room. 

Sirius looked around at the faces of gathered Death Eaters. He recognized most everyone and he was pretty sure he was related to the majority in someway. He stood by his father, who had miraculously recovered and insisted on being present at the Dark Lord’s New Year’s Eve party, or ball, or whatever this was meant to be. It looked like all the other stuck up pure-blood “parties” he’d been forced to attend in his youth. Sirius tugged at his collar.

He was on a mission, he reminded himself. Dumbledore said that Severina hadn’t checked-in, in almost three days and Lily told James who told Sirius that Lily’s owls kept coming back with her letters unopened, like the owl couldn’t find Severina. How could an owl not find her? Where was she? James suggested she may have gone abroad. Well… James suggested she ran like a coward because being a spy was too much for her. Sirius knew better, which only made him worry more.

Dumbledore had called in Moody to brief him before he met up with his family. Moody seemed to think, if You Know Who, called Severina and she hadn’t returned, then perhaps her cover was blown and she was either being tortured to insanity or she was already dead. Dumbledore hadn’t said anything for a long time and when he did, Sirius wished he hadn’t. 

“If it happens that her cover has been blown. You cannot risk your own position. We will need you more than ever. If she lives you cannot intervene unless it is to… end her suffering. Do you understand?” 

Oh, Merlin, he wished he didn’t but he nodded, automatically. Dumbledore inclined his head curtly in return and excused himself. 

Sirius turned to Moody, “Moody, you’ve fought You Know Who, haven’t you? You know what he’s capable of? Do you think she’s alive?” 

Moody grunted. “If she is alive, I doubt there’s anything of herself left. In battle, he’s cruel and vicious. Like nothing I’ve ever seen. I don’t envy her nor do I envy you.”

“I’ve only heard rumors, that he looks like a human snake. Is it true or is it just the other Aurors trying to mess with us, cadets?” Sirius asked

“It’s true. He’s inhuman, a monster, eyes that glow red and he moves like a wraith. Keep your head about you. Constant vigilance. Don’t drop your occulmency shield for a moment, not one moment. He Who Must Not Be Named is a master legilimence.” Sirius nodded, feeling like the blood had gone from his entire face.

Sirius focused on the task at hand, scanning the room. His brother, he noticed, was also scanning the room. Sirius turned to him and whispered,

“Who are you looking for?”

“No one.” 

“Oh, come on Reggie. You’re looking for someone. A witch, perhaps?” Regulus’s cheeks pinked and Sirius smirked. This was nice, it almost made all the stress over tonight disappear. To have his brother back, to be able to tease him about girls. It was how it should be. It revived Sirius in a way he hadn’t realized he needed. James and Remus and Peter were great mates but Reggie was his kid-brother; he could never be replaced.

“What about you? You’ve been looking for someone too.” Regulus asked.

“Ah, well, I was curious about meeting our host for the evening.” Sirius said.

“Father will want to introduce you as his heir, I should think. Do remember to refer to him as ‘My Lord,’ Mother would be embarrassed if you were to be crucioed within your first meeting.”

“He’d cruico me for not addressing him properly?”

Reggie scoffed. “He’d crucio you for looking at him wrong, or out of boredom. He can be unpredictable. Just, be on your best behavior, Father is sticking his neck out for you.”

“Reg… why do I get the sense that you are getting something out of being disinherited? Shouldn’t you be more put out by all of this? Why are you helping me?”

“We’re brothers.” Regulus answered. 

Sirius wanted to believe him. He wanted his brother to love him like that, for it to be that simple. There was something behind his brother’s eyes, though. Something, he could not trust- an ulterior motive. 

“I hope so, Reg. I really do.” 

Regulus’s eyes softened a little and he sighed. He looked like he was about to say something, when their father spoke.

“We must greet our host; Sirius, Regulus, come.” Orion took his wife’s arm and wrapped it stiffly around his forearm. 

Sirius followed his mother and father who walked with a pose he tried to emulate. He imagined that Slytherins must have had rods shoved up their arses during orientation, so he’d have to just fake his the best he could. 

They seemed to be approaching a group of wizards and witches, among who was his cousin Bellatrix who stood with her husband, Rodolphus. They all were facing a wizard, listening intently. Sirius could only see the back of his head- dark hair trimmed short, a bit longer on top and styled cleanly. It wasn’t typical of purebloods to wear their hair short; it wasn’t even a style in the muggle world, right now. This wizard looked like he’d stepped out of another era; there was something about him that just didn’t fit. 

Bellatrix and all the other witches and most of the wizards seemed to have stars in their eyes as they listened to him. They approached and Sirius caught the end of what the wizard was saying. 

“… and that was how I was able to persuade the werewolves to join our cause. Of course, once we have won our war, they will be easy enough to keep in line. They are only animals, after all.” The wizard chuckled in a deep rich voice that sent a pool of heat to Sirius’s gut and his words threatened bile to his throat. _Who the fuck does this wizard think he is?_ Sirius’s mind raged. Then his father’s voice answered,

“My Lord,” Orion Black bowed low to the stranger and the wizard turned, revealing his face. He was handsome, confident with an air of charm and superiority. 

“Orion, how good to see you well again.’ The wizard greeted his father like an old friend- patting his father on his shoulder and calling him by his first name; while Lord Orion Black thanked him formally. Sirius watched the wizard’s face. Something was off. His eyes were ice-blue and just as cold but his smile and manners were borderline formal and casual all at once. Sirius was sure that the wizard’s eyes darted to his mother and a smirk had pulled at his lips. 

“Thank you, my Lord. I am glad to be well enough to join the festivities tonight. I am also, pleased to present you with my eldest son who has recently reconciled with our family and is here tonight.” Orion gestured towards him and Sirius took a step forward and bowed low to the stranger, who may or may not be… You Know Who. 

“The prodigal son returns,” The wizard laughed and the others who were standing near-by, joined in. Sirius didn’t have to look at his parents to know they would be grimacing. When Sirius rose, his eyes met the wizard’s and he felt a tingle in his mind. Sirius fortified his walls but the question he had just been asking himself flashed through his mind- _“Who is this wizard?”_

Sirius felt all the air go out of him and he was looking once more at the face of the wizard who Sirius was in no doubt was He Who Should Not Be Named. He may not have looked like a snake with red eyes and movement like a wraith, but Sirius felt the coldness of fear grip him as though he stood before death himself. 

The Dark Lord smiled at him and spoke coolly, “Welcome, Sirius Black. I hope you have learned the value of family, overall. There is nothing in the world worse than being estranged from your family. I hope you will not make the same mistake again.”

“No,’ Sirius’s voice threatened to shudder, ‘my Lord, I will be more careful not to make the same mistakes in the future.”

His icy-blue eyes burned him a moment longer before he turned to Regulus, his charm returning in a blink. 

“And you, young Regulus? What do you think of your brother returning? You were almost heir. I hope there will not be bitterness between brothers.” The Dark Lord said.

Regulus stood tall and poised. “Certainly not, my Lord. I am very glad to have my brother back and the weight of heir off my shoulders.” Regulus smirked boyishly.

The Dark Lord smiled thinly in response. “What are your plans then, for the future?” 

Regulus swallowed and Sirius wished he could step in between this man and his brother, keep him from looking at his brother with those frozen eyes. 

“I hope to join your ranks, my Lord and serve you and our cause.”

“Fine words, Regulus, but you have another request. Ask it.”

Sirius felt his parents stiffen. He could nearly feel his mother’s magic flare red-hot.

“Now that I am not heir, I only wish the freedom afforded to younger brothers. The freedom to make my own way in life. I suppose it is my own Slytherin ambitions to make a name for myself on my own merit. Also…’ Reggie’s voice dropped a little but he cleared his throat and squared his shoulders, looking more Gryffindor than Slytherin. ‘I would like to marry a witch of my own choosing.”

The Dark Lord’s laugh rumbled and grew into a full belly laugh. 

“I must say Regulus Black, you impress me. I’m sure a worthy and ambitious wizard such as yourself, will win any witch’s heart.”

Regulus relaxed and Sirius silently begged him not to say anything else. Sirius really wanted to find out what happened to Snape and get the hell out of here. No such luck, however,

“Thank you, my Lord. Indeed the witch in question…” Regulus started again but was cut off by his mother,

“Regulus, you will not continue. We have already discussed this and we will not give our blessing to such an unsavory match. Forgive my son, my Lord, he is still very young.”

The Dark Lord grinned, thoroughly amused, “Oh, but now I am curious. Please, do continue.”

Regulus spoke up before either of their parents could. “She is one of your own followers, my Lord, surely if you have approved of her then my parents might allow…”

Orion cut him off, “A half-blood may be fine for somethings, a mistress perhaps, but not a wife. Son, do be reasonable.”

Something in the Dark Lord’s eyes flashed dangerously but Sirius was distracted by this new revelation. His attention snapped to his brother.

“Snape?” 

Regulus looked at him in challenge as the small crowd murmured and snickered.

“Yes, well, we all know how you two hated each other in school, but perhaps you will find it within yourself to be civil enough to her when I marry her. You do wish to be my brother, do you not? I intend her to be your sister.”

Sirius gaped and dread coursed through his veins. His brother was in love with Snape? Sirius didn’t even know if she was still alive. He’d been dreading the news that she was dead or being tortured into insanity. Sirius hadn’t even had a chance to examine his own turmoil over such a scenario. 

Something snapped inside of him, at the thought of her being fine and married off to his brother. Something like relief mixed with jealously, at the image it created; he had been working his way up to… making amends maybe, becoming friends. He felt possessive of her. In his mind, she belonged in the pack with the Marauders. She had her own seat at the Potter cottage. It wasn’t Reg who sat next to her there- that was _his seat._

“My Lord, you see how stubborn he is being about this. Perhaps you can talk some sense into him?” Lady Black entreated. 

The Dark Lord snapped his fingers and a house-elf appeared, handed him a glass of champaign and popped off. The Dark Lord raised the glass to lips, those hard eyes looking between the Lord and Lady Black and Regulus. He seemed to ponder the issue a moment, before making a decision,

“Let’s ask, Severina.” The Dark Lord snapped his fingers again and instructed this new elf to tell Severina to come to him. 

The relief that washed over Sirius, nearly made his knees buckle. _She was alive._ The Dark Lord, was unreadable, his eyes fixed on his hand that held his champaign glass- at the signet ring on his pinky. His easy charm was gone and there was a frigid atmosphere that surrounded him. Regulus seemed unnerved and didn’t know where to look. Sirius kept scanning those around them waiting for the familiar signs of her approach- her familiar sweeping gait, her head of greasy lank black hair, her distinctive nose. 

His eyes found a beautiful young witch walking toward them. Her hair was black but it wasn’t lank or greasy, it was lush and healthy and looked like black silk and was elegantly arranged off her shoulders. Her skin was creamy with a healthy glow and her makeup tastefully done. She wore an emerald satin gown that swept behind her and whispered over the floor. It was simple and modest enough in the front, only adorned with a silver locket around her neck. He was mesmerized.

She reached them and bowed to the Dark Lord; the back of her dress plunged almost to the top of her buttocks and was laced with silver chains attached to a large silver serpent that slithered up her spine. 

“You wished to see me, my Lord.” Her voice spoke.

Sirius gasped. He’d recognize her voice anywhere, but how had he missed the black of her eyes, the hook of her nose and the slight down turn of her lips?

“Severina.” The Dark Lord greeted, and lifted her from her bowed position by offering his hand. 

Severina looked… beautiful, stunning, gorgeous, ethereal…

“Severina.. you look lovely.” Regulus’s awed voice cut through his thoughts. 

Sirius really wanted a drink and wondered if he snapped his fingers if he might summon a damned elf. _At least she’s alive and well,_ Sirius thought almost sarcastically. What was going on? If she was here and fine… better than fine, why had she not checked-in with Dumbledore and worried them all sick?

“Thank you Regulus.’ Severina smiled and inclined her head. Turning to his father, “Lord Black, it is very good to see you again, and you as well Lady Black.” Severina glanced up at the Dark Lord with a flash of a smirk which the Dark Lord returned, hiding it behind his champaign glass. He seemed to regain his charm once again and also an easiness that he had not had before. Severina then turned to Sirius as though she’d only just noticed his existance. She opened her mouth but was cut off by a witch who was standing with Rabastan Lestrange and Bellatrix. 

“Miss Snape, what an interesting dress. Where ever did you get it?” Stella Leroy, Sirius thought to be her name, asked in a falseness she didn’t bother to hide. 

“Indeed, Sev, you shouldn’t hold out on us ladies like this. The design is expert, to look so lovely even on… well…” Bellatrix added cooly, letting her insinuation hang within the silence as she sipped her drink. 

“Hmmm…’ The Dark Lord seemed to contemplate Snape’s dress, ‘Turn’ He commanded and she complied immediately, turning until her back was to them and they saw the expanse of her back and the detailed serpent on her spine. Sirius didn’t like how compliant she was acting- so submissive. If there was one thing that Severina Snape had proven to the Marauders over the years, it was that she never submitted. 

Sirius gritted his teeth when the Dark Lord traced his index finger down the length of the snake, and catching the lip of satin at its tail just above her buttocks. 

“A fine dress, Severina.” He purred.

“Thank you, my Lord.”

“I believed the ladies would like to know where you got it.” The Dark Lord smiled widely. 

“A witch should be allowed her secrets.” Severina answered. Some of the ladies gasped or squawked at her impertinence; his own mother made a strangled guttural sound and somehow managed to lift her nose even higher into the air. Had Sirius been in a mood to laugh he would’ve looked over at his mother to see if she was actually looking straight up into the ceiling. 

The Dark Lord released a breathy chuckle and grazed his finger tips across the exposed skin on Severina’s back. Goosebumps rose and spread across her skin. Orion Black cleared his throat and the Dark Lord looked up as if only just remembering they are all there. 

“Ah, yes, the reason I called you.’ He guided Severina around to face them, downed the rest of his champagne and vanished his flute. His face turned stony again. ‘Regulus Black has just informed me that he intends to marry you.” Snape arched an eyebrow but otherwise her face gave nothing away. “What do you think?” The Dark Lord stood behind her, whispering in her ear with his hands rested on her hips. 

Regulus had closed himself off. No one seemed to be all that bothered by the Dark Lord’s hands all over Severina like that. Sirius however, felt a fire building in his chest, his nostrils flared and his hands fisted at his sides. Regulus, stepped forward and opened his mouth to speak,

“Severina, I…”

But Severina cut him off quickly, with a charming smile and Sirius wondered if he’d ever seen her smile. He was sure she must have smiled before- at least with Lily. Then he realized her teeth were straight and perfectly white. Her smile was stunning. Regulus was stunned too, he blushed and sighed and said no more. 

“I think, that Regulus should ask me to dance first.”

Regulus smiled brightly and offered his hand, “I would be honored if you would dance with me, Miss Snape.” 

When the couple walked off, Sirius noticed a shift occur. It was subtle but definitely there. The crowd of witnesses and even his parents were divided into two responses. The first and strangest was that his father looked after the couple, smiled and inclined his head in approval. Some of the witches in the crowd had cocked their head and sighed and seemed to aww at the romance of the situation. The second was that his mother looked ready to kill Snape on the spot, squash her like a bug. 

The Dark Lord was inscrutable.

Sirius would remember this moment as the calm before the storm. How he had breathed in relief as his brother and Severina walked away from the Dark Lord unscathed. It would be the last time he breathed easy that night. 

The next day, however, he stumbled to Potter Cottage. 

“You look like shite, Padfoot.” Prongs snarked.

“James!” Lily reprimanded. 

“What? He stood us up last night to party with You Know Who! What the fuck Padfoot?” Countered James.

“Did you see Sev? Is she okay?” Lily, asked as Remus, tore into James, “James, you very well that Sirius is trying to help us win this war and that he’s putting his life on the line! Stop being such an insensitive prick.” 

James ran his hand through his hair and looked at Sirius, “Sorry, mate, I… So, what happened last night?”

Sirius tried to open his mouth to respond but he felt his stomach turn and he rushed to the toilet. He dry heaved for a while before he was able to vomit a bit of bile. He heard indistinct voices in the doorway and dry heaved again. His body trembling, he sank to the floor. His friends lifted him, cleaned him and carried him to the sofa. Sirius let his head fall between his knees and his hands fisted his hair.

_“You asked me what it was like to be a spy… This is what it is like. It’s like having all your power stripped from you and your very soul torn from your body and all you can do is watch it happen.”_

_“Or die fighting!”_

_“No, you die in either case. All you can do is live just a little longer with the hope that you can save the life of those you love.”_

_“And who do you love? Whose life is worth all of this?”_

_“Lily.” Came her hoarse reply._

__

Sirius reached into his pocket and gripped the vial there. He took it out and looked at the golden liquid swish around before he held it up to Lily.

“What is this?’ She took the vial and examined it. ‘Liquid Luck?”

“From Snape, she wants you to have it. Just in case. She said a drop will last 24 hours. There are 29 drops left.” Sirius answered matter-of-factly.

“Sev?” Lily’s voice shook and tears welled. Lily dropped to her knees and held Sirius’s face in-between her hands, the vial pressing into his temple. “You saw her… is she okay? Is she alive? Am I ever going to see her again?” Tears sprung from her eyes and streamed down her face.

Sirius looked at her with dead, tired eyes, “She’s alive, Lily and she’s fine. I… don’t know what’s going to happen, but whatever happens, Lily. She loves you and she’s… She’s trying to keep you safe. At least… I hope so…” Sirius’s voice trailed off and he looked off into nothing while Lily collapsed in a weeping mess, James bent down to hold her while she cried. Sirius met Remus’s searching eyes and Sirius couldn’t say or do anything but lay curled up on the sofa and try to ignore the echoes of muffled screaming inside his mind. 

__


	10. Disappointment

Severina let Regulus lead her to the dance floor, she schooled her face into something like politeness before she snapped,

“Reg, what the hell?”

Regulus smirked, “What? It can’t be such a surprise. Actually, it’s Cissy’s idea; she wants to see you move up in our circles, Lucius too. They are rather invested in your future. Probably for nefarious reasons,’ he let out a soft snort, ‘Still… it’s a smart match, you must admit.’

“We’ll get along well enough and you really do look delicious tonight, I must say. It’ll piss my parents off just enough but not enough to really cause a stir and it’ll keep them off my back. Once I marry, I do get a type of inheritance, like a dowry… in case you’re interested. You can brew independently, quit that awful teaching job, I know you must hate, and I’ll well… I don’t know what I’ll do. Maybe I’ll be your charmingly handsome trophy husband.” He laughed. 

Severina paused to imagine it. What an easy life they may have had together. Regulus was handsome and smart and they got on well. It wouldn’t be a great romance by any means, but it would be stable and comfortable. Regulus could be lazy at times, but he’d be uncomplicated and undemanding. Maybe she’d encourage him to get a low level ministry job just for show. Maybe he’d even learn to enjoy it. Reg had the potential to be a very successful politician if he ever found a cause he believed in enough. She could’ve helped him find that. It would’ve been a good match for both of them. 

“Oh, Reg… I can’t.” She answered finally.

“What? I mean, I know we aren’t in love or anything, but that could come later. Actually, I really hope it will…” He smiled softly.

“You don’t understand…” Tears threatened but did not spill as she watched this possible future fade out like a distance whisper from another life. She couldn’t even try to hold on to it, not that she was stupid enough to try. “Listen, you have to drop this. You can not pursue it. My answer is, no. Trust me on this, its for your own good.”

“Sev…,” He started but the song ended and Sirius cut in. Before she knew it, she was in the arms of the elder Black brother while the younger sulked away towards the Malfoys. 

“So, you’re going to be my sister then?” Sirius asked in a strange voice.

“No.” She answered.

Sirius’s shoulders relaxed, “Why not?”

“It’s not safe.”

His brows furrowed and dropped his voice until it was barely audible. “Where have you been? It’s been three days, everyone has been really worried. Dumbledore said you haven’t checked-in.”

Severina’s insides twisted, “I’ve been brewing… I really can’t say more, here.”

“Shit, Snape…”

“It was only three days. Was… was Dumbledore really worried?” Her chest felt like it was being crushed by some invisible force.

“Of course…’ Severina let out a breath, ‘He thought you might have been found out and that you… He thought you were dead or as good as. Thank, Merlin you are alright. I didn’t want to have to…”

“Have to what?”

“It doesn’t matter. You’re fine and you’ll be back at Hogwarts soon.”

Severina nodded. She remembered how Dumbledore smelled like lavender and lemon drops and how gently he held her and pet her hair as she cried into his robes; the memory soured and felt bitter. She felt anxious and desperate at the thought of being at Hogwarts again- like an animal about to be forced into a cage. She knew intuitively that she could not leave, without great amount of pain. 

Her eyes searched beyond Sirius and found the Dark Lord’s eyes on hers. He slipped into her mind and she showed him how she told Regulus ‘No.’ He smirked and asked Miss Leroy to dance. Severina looked away, and when she did, she saw Sirius staring at her. 

“What?”

He swallowed and smiled in that stupidly flirtatious smile he was known for, “You look, absolutely stunning tonight, Snape.” 

She couldn’t help the small snort of a laugh that came out. Sirius had an uncanny ability to make anyone laugh, when he wanted to and she, apparently, was no exception. 

“Don’t get used to it.” She huffed. 

He laughed and pulled her a little closer. “So, where did you get the dress?” He teased.

Her smile fell and she looked again, over his shoulder, the Dark Lord was a few couples away, dancing with the same witch. The song ended and he took a step back from his partner to gallantly bow over her hand, kissing her knuckles. Miss Leroy blushed and curtsied in return. 

“You Know Who.” Severina answered. 

“What?” Sirius laughed at first, not understanding, but then, his face grew hard and his eyes widened. 

“May I cut in?” The Dark Lord appeared at their side and Severina was impressed, how quickly Sirius adapted. He bowed to the Dark Lord and handed her over. Severina didn’t watch Sirius leave, her eyes feeling magnetized to the wizard dancing with her. 

Logically, she knew she should feel unnerved; she should be terrified. He could very well be upset with her and the Dark Lord upset could mean death. However, her feelings juxtaposed her logic; she felt more at ease than she had all evening. She sank a little in his arms, stepping a little closer than was necessary. 

“Did you know?” His voice was hard and cold.

“Know what?” She asked undisturbed.

“That the young Regulus Black is in love with you and is intent on marrying you?” He clarified, throughly annoyed. 

Severina chuckled, “No, I didn’t know and no, he isn’t in love with me. He just wants to annoy his parents.”

He laughed and splayed his hand under the snake emblem so that the full of his hand was pressed against her bare skin, his thumb stroking her spine. 

“You seemed to enjoy dancing with the elder brother as well. Two handsome, wealthy wizards in a row, from an old and powerful family, at that.”

_Dear, Merlin, the Dark Lord was jealous!_

“Mmm, well, it wouldn’t do to insult the future Lord Black. It seems your plan has worked, my Lord, but perhaps you are a better judge than myself. Are half the wizards in the room desperately in love with me?” She pulled back to smirk at him. 

He scoffed but smiled and shook his head, “Making them fall in love with you is not the point, silly girl.”

“I have never in my life been accused of being a ‘silly girl,’ I quite resent the accusation.”. 

He pressed his cheek to her temple and spoke into her ear, “Don’t pout. I am of half a mind to rip this damned dress off you right now and fuck you right here in front of everyone.’ Severina stiffened, not thinking at all that he was incapable of such a thing, ‘The point is to get them to respect you. Lust and attraction only get you noticed, their attention is stupidly brief. So, after you have their attention, you have to give them a reason to not to look away.”

“Like what?”

He shrugged, “I’m sure some opportunity will present itself.” He said enigmatically.


	11. Insanity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning! Disturbing chapter ahead!
> 
> I understand that a lot of this story is disturbing, but personally this one freaks me out and I'm the one who wrote it. Something's wrong with me and I can't apologize enough for that.

The eleventh hour passed without much ado. The Dark Lord mingled and charmed them all. Severina danced a few more times with various wizards. Regulus avoided her and Cissy expressed her annoyance by giving her the cold shoulder. Surprisingly, it was Sirius who seemed to almost glue himself to her, helping her through the more difficult socializing. It was so easy for him. He’d been estranged from his family for years and yet everyone seemed to welcome him with open arms the moment he smiled. This was what the Dark Lord wanted her to do, to become someone like himself, someone like Sirius. Sirius may not use his charm as intentionally as the Dark Lord, but they both wielded it like a weapon. Severina lacked that natural charm and would have to find another approach. She wanted to and that surprised her; she wanted respect, she wanted success and her ambitions to come to fruition.

An image flashed in her mind, a memory, of her and Lily pouring through their Hogwarts books the summer before their first year. She thought of Lily and all she meant to her then and now. Severina looked around and remembered how meaningless this all was. She let him pull her into his ambitions, let her own Slytherin traits distract her from her purpose. She had to help end this war and it had to be the Light that won.

She would be damned if she had to wait for Harry to grow up before this war ended. She didn’t believe in that god-forsaken prophecy for a minute. Divination was an unstable branch of magic in her opinion- its power lay solely in self-fulfillment. Her eyes found the Dark Lord, smiling and talking a few feet away. She was going to betray him. Some day she would have to. It would really be better to happen sooner than later. The locket she wore grew heavy and she couldn’t tell if the metal was freezing cold or burning hot, she reached for it, fisting it. The Dark Lord’s attention, snapped to her. The feeling vanished in an instant; her heart pounded in her ears and she tried to drop her hand smoothly.

“You okay?” Sirius asked beside her.

“Yes, of course, thank you.” She smile reassuringly.

Lucius was with them and was staring at the locket. It was silver with a green snake curved in the shape of an “S.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear jewelry before. Your locket, is it new?”

“It is new to me.” She answered vaguely, of course, Lucius would pick up on it- his eyebrow arched up.

“Then the “S” is a coincidence?” Lucius asked.

“Yes.”

A hand reached out and touched the chain above her collar bone, incidentally, right atop the mouth-shaped bruise she had glamoured. Severina turned and saw the Dark Lord stood beside her opposite Sirius. Lucius bowed first then Sirius. Severina tried to follow suit but the Dark Lord tilted her chin towards himself. He didn’t hold her long, with a quick grimace he released her and looked to her companions.

“How are you enjoying yourselves?” The Dark Lord asked.

Lucius gave some appropriate and overly indulgent answer. The Dark Lord rolled his eyes up to the clock and sighed. Lucius shifted uncomfortably and Severina had to suppress a giggle. Though, really, it was not at all funny if the Dark Lord was bored at his own party- bad things happened when the Dark Lord was bored. Severina wondered if her morbid sense of humor was at all healthy.

He sighed and turned to Severina, "What about you, Miss Snape? How are you enjoying the evening?”

“I am looking forward to next year.” She responded dryly.

The Dark Lord laughed, a restrained huffing that shook his shoulders. He pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. Sirius and Lucius looked rather confused at her lame double entendre and a bit nervous at the Dark Lord's reaction. The Dark Lord straightened, mirth still on his face,

“Hmm, yes, well, less than five minutes yet. I better make a speech.”

He caught her eye and in her mind his voice, _Stay, close. It’s almost time._ Severina tried not to react outwardly but she felt dread shoot down her spine. Sirius tried to catch her eye, a questioning look on his face; Lucius looked calculating. Severina ignored them both and turned to follow the Dark Lord. He took his place under the giant clock floating below the candle-lit chandelier. She kept a bit of distance and was thankful that Sirius was at her elbow, but when she turned to him, it was Regulus and not Sirius whose arm she took.

Regulus bent down to her ear, “I’m sorry I’ve been such a prat, tonight.”

Severina shook her head and answered neutrally, “I understand Reg. I may not have broken your heart but I hurt your pride. If our positions were reversed, I would’ve been a prat for longer than a couple hours.”

Regulus quirked a bitter-sweet smile, “You have an uncanny, ability to see right through people.”

Severina’s eyes were on the Dark Lord, he had called for the elves to bring out champaign flutes. She took hers and his eyes glanced at her for a moment.

“Not everyone.” She said.

“Oh, I don’t know… I suppose I really should thank you for rejecting me.” Severina looked questioningly at him, “The Dark Lord has been watching you all night. Severina, I’ve come to warn you, I’ve heard some whisperings… No one really knows what to think of your transformation. Some are intrigued but the others well… they’re not happy. I’d watch your back if I were you.”

“I see… I suspected as much. I suppose I should, thank you.”

They both quirked a smile. In all their years of friendship they never actually thanked each other for anything. It was always a, “I suppose…” but never did they directly say “thank you.”

Regulus looked over his shoulder to where his brother stood, next to some witch their mother dragged over to him. “I should have a talk with my brother as well. He’s been far too close to you all night. He’s going to get himself killed. I'd wager mother offing him before the Dark Lord, though; by the way, why has my brother been with you all night?”

Severina turned to look at Sirius, who was flirting half-heartily with the witch beside him. Severina hadn’t really questioned it. They’d spent a lot of time together this past year and it hadn’t felt odd at all, but she now realized how it must’ve looked to everyone else. Everyone here would’ve thought they still hated each other like they had at school. _Shit… they couldn’t afford mistakes like that._

The Dark Lord spoke, “Thank you all for being here, tonight. We have accomplished so much, my friends and I am confident that all our hard work and sacrifices will bare fruit this year. Even as I speak to you now, progress is in motion. Victory is near, ’ His eyes shone, he looked drunk on his words, ‘and we will bring glory and honor to the Wizarding world. We will rid our precious world of the tainted blood that pollutes our government, our school, our businesses and our homes. We fight a worthy cause, my friends, never forget our purpose. We fight for a brighter future, a _**pure**_ future!’

The crowd clapped and gasped sighs in agreement. His fervor was intoxicating. Severina was sure he could’ve said anything at that moment and they would’ve all cheered and followed him. It wasn’t his words so much as the power in voice, his inflections, his quality, his passion.

The clock chimed midnight and burst into gold and silver confetti and the Dark Lord called out, “My friends! The future is here!” He looked up at the falling confetti and smiled.

Severina was enraptured with the sight of him. She lifted her flute to her lips, her eyes on him, and paused. She saw the witch he had dance with earlier at his left at his elbow; Severina almost missed it, almost could convince herself she imagined it, but the witch poured something into the Dark Lord’s champaign flute.

Severina didn’t think, she didn’t have time, she strode towards him, her eyes glued to his flute. As she neared he began to lift the drink to his lips. Severina’s hand shot out and stilled his hand. She was vaguely aware of the attention she attracted and how the Dark Lord looked down, questioning, “Severina?”

She pulled the flute to her nose and inhaled. _The park where she first met Lily, Hogwarts’s potions lab, and **his** hair in the morning._ She looked down and saw a pearl-like sheen amongst the champaign bubbles.

“Amorentia” She gasped looking up at the witch responsible. Severina’s magic flared, she dropped her own flute and before it crashed against the floor, her hand shot out; her magic coursed through her fingertips as she wandlessly cast _stupefy_. The witch had only had time to widen her eyes and begin to turn before the spell hit her and her body collapsed to the floor, unconscious.

Witches shrieked and wizards cried out in outrage. Wands were drawn on her shouts of _’traitor!’_ And ‘ _half-blood imposter!_ ’ echoed in the hall.

Severina looked up at the Dark Lord who raised his hand and shouted, “SILENCE!’ The crowd stilled. He continued in a reasonable voice, ‘I am sure there is an explanation for this.”

“My Lord, this half-blood just attacked my niece!” Lord Leroy moved to revive the unconscious witch. As soon as she revived, her eyes went wild and she scrambled to her feet and tried to run, but the Dark Lord’s commanding voice boomed again,

“Hold her! No one moves until we get to the bottom of this.”

The girl’s uncle held her and tried to sooth her but her eyes were terrified. The Dark Lord turned to Severina. Severina straighten herself and with as much confidence as she could muster, “My Lord, I witnessed Miss Leroy, pour a potion into your champagne flute. If you examine your drink, my Lord, I think you will find the mother-of-pearl sheen and the distinct smell of… amorentia.”

The crowd gasped. The Dark Lord examined his flute then vanished it. His eyes flashed with rage. His expression deadly cold, void of any discernible emotion,

“Indeed it is.”

The crowd murmured. Lord Leroy paled and looked at his niece as though she were already dead; he released her and stepped away. The Dark Lord grabbed the terrified girl by the arm and looked in her eyes. When he released her mind, she whimpered and winced. He reached roughly down her dress and pulled out a vial, still half-filled with a pearly substance.

“Why, Miss Leroy, I am flattered.’ He said flatly. ‘Perhaps it would be wiser to get to know each other a little better first. Come, I have someone I’d like you to meet.’ He jerked her arm and dragged her with a death-like grip toward a door on the side of the room. ‘Have I ever told you about my familiar? She is such unique creature, I’m prodigiously proud of her. Oh, you’ll see why in a moment.” They stopped at the door, he flung it open and hissed loudly.

Everyone in the room gasped and the witch’s eyes which had been pinched in pain, blew wide. The Dark Lord chuckled falsely, “Oh, have I never mentioned that I’m a parselmouth? Surprised the hell out of me when I first found out, let me tell you…” and he chuckled again.

The room shrieked when Nagini slithered into the room, in all her glory, and took her place beside her Master. Severina’s mind had gone blank, except the word _fuck_ replaying over and over. She caught sight of Sirius, pushing passed her. _What the hell did he think he was going to do?_

She reached for him and grabbed his wrist. He turned to her with a desperate sort of fury in his eye. She met his eyes and pushed inside his mind.

_“You asked me what it was like to be a spy… This is what it is like. It’s like having all your power stripped from you and your very soul torn from your body and all you can do is watch it happen.”_

_“Or die fighting!”_

_“No, you die in either case. All you can do is live just a little longer with the hope that you can save the life of those you love.”_

_“And who do you love? Whose life is worth all of this?” He asked, desperately._

_“Lily.” Her mind whispered hoarsely._

_“Stella Leroy’s blood will be on your hands. You should have let him drink the damn potion.” Sirius snapped._

_“Maybe you’re right… it’s too late now and I have her blood on my hands.” She answered._

Sirius looked as defeated as she felt. She wondered how he would survive tonight with his mind intact. Her own sanity had long since started slipping; now, she had to watch the beginning of his deterioration.

The Dark Lord was speaking, “Perhaps, it would be better to demonstrate the dangers of such a potion.” He gripped Stella’s cheeks painfully, forcing her mouth open. Uncorking the bottle with his thumb and ever so carefully, tipped the vial above her open mouth. She shook in his grasp. “Ah ah ah… just a drop, we don’t want it to last too long.” Severina held her breath as the single drop dripped from the lip of the bottle and fell into the mouth of the witch.

The Dark Lord released her roughly. No one in the room moved, everyone was still, poised, entranced by the overwhelming premonition that worse was coming. The witch straightened and looked at the Dark Lord with unrestrained infatuation. Her head tilted to the side and she sighed, long and breathy. Then, she reached for him; his hand shot out and caught her by the throat. He squeezed and Severina could see the veins in the witch’s neck popping against the surface of her skin, but the witch never lost the longing in her eyes as she beheld the Dark Lord.

The Dark Lord spoke to the witch in a soft commanding voice, “Lay down on ground and do not move a muscle. If you move, I will be very displeased. You do not wish to displease me, do you?' The witch shook her head. ‘Good.” He released her and she dropped down to her knees and then shifted to recline completely on the ground.

The Dark Lord cast a disgusted glance at the witch before turning to the crowd, “Severina," he called for her.

Severina used every ounce of self-control and occlumency powers she had and stepped forward. Those around her stepping away and clearing her path.

“Yes, my Lord,’ She answered him, ‘I am at your service.”

He smile and opened his arm in a gesture to come to his side. She approached him, carefully avoiding Miss Leroy, on floor. She simple didn’t have the strength to look at her while Sirius’s condemnation echoed in her mind- behind her walls, _Her blood is on your hands. Her blood… her blood…_

The Dark Lord asked, “What was that clever little spell you used on your parents?” His eye were wild and his pupils were blown out; he looked crazed and lustful.

“ _Sectumsempra_ , my Lord.”

He smirked and looked down, with a soft huff through his nose; he looked back up with a flirtatious smile. “I must admit that is not a spell I know. Did you create it yourself?”

Severina swallowed, “I did.”

“Will you teach it to me?”

“If you wish.”

“I do.” He pulled out his wand, and waited like a patient student.

Severina spoke clearly and confidently as though she were teaching her class at Hogwarts, “You simply speak the incantation and move your wand in a slashing motion. The curse follows the path of the wand movement and its effect is equivalent to that of an invisible sword.”

“Show me.” He handed her his wand. She expected the damn thing to bite or sting her but it didn’t and that disturbed her so much more- how comfortable his wand felt in her hand. The Dark Lord gestured to the witch on the floor and Severina was forced to look down at her. The witch’s eyes held hate and fury as they looked at her; jealousy was burning inside her eyes and Severina thought the witch might jump to her feet and try to kill her. She very well may have if she hadn’t been…

“Uh ah… do not move, remember?’ The witch turned her eyes again to the Dark Lord and the admiration and longing returned. ‘Wait. Just one more thing…’ and he tugged at his bow tie until it was loose in his hands, ‘We don’t want you biting your tongue off, now, do we?’ He bent down over the witch and placed the bow tie between her teeth. He stroked her hair and she nuzzled his palm. Then he took her arm and stretched it out from her body. He stood and backed away.

“Just her hand, Severina, if you’d be so kind.”

_Merlin. He asked her to slice off a woman's hand as if he’d asked her to pass the salt._

Severina did her best not to tremble or show any emotion at all. She spoke the incantation and slashed at the witch’s wrist. The magic flowed smoothly, almost as effortlessly as her own wand would have. The witch’s hand tilted a little and fell to its side- independent of the rest of the arm. Blood poured out from the severed hand and the witch jerked her handless-arm.

“DON’T MOVE!” The Dark Lord shouted at her and she turned to him in pain and screaming against his tie between her teeth, but her eyes held only longing for him.

He hissed at Nagini as he bent down to pick up the severed hand and tossed it into the waiting mouth of the giant snake.

Severina felt her stomach turn. She offered the Dark Lord his wand. He took it, rounded to the other side of the witch and repeated the process. After throwing a second severed hand to Nagini, he hissed another command and Nagini started to devour the witch feet first. The witch, all the while, staring longingly at the Dark Lord while crying in pain.

“Thank you, Severina. Clever spell indeed.’ He looked to the crowd, ‘Ingenuity. Intelligence. Initiative. These are the qualities I look for within my ranks. Cross me, and well… Let this be a lesson to you all.”

The love potion wore off about the time the witch was almost to her shoulders. She spit the tie from her mouth and the scream she emitted would haunt Severina for the rest of her life. Had she a wand, Severina wondered if she could’ve cast a Avada Kadava but Severina wasn’t sure she was capable such a spell. It didn’t matter anyway, she hadn’t her wand, because of this stupid fucking dress that was supposed to catch pureblood attention. Well, they were paying attention now. The witch tried clawing at the floor with her nubs and hitting the snake in the face, splattering blood everywhere. Nagini bit down with her paralyzing venom, but the witch, to everyone’s horror, it didn’t stop screaming between her frozen lips. They could still hear the muffled screams from within the snake.

Severina wondered briefly, if Nagini had any humanity inside her. If she had just been forced to… _Oh gods, which was worse? To be the snake or witch?_

The Dark Lord spoke up cheerfully, “Well… Let us remember that it is a new year. You are free to stay as long as you like.”

He took Severina's hand and lead her towards the dance floor. He stopped and placed her hand on his shoulder and put her other hand in his own. Severina thought that she recognized the song. She tried to listen to it, but all she could hear was the screaming had stopped. Many were leaving; some stayed and danced.

The next song reminded Severina of her mother. Her mother had a record player at one point; eventually, her father pawned it off, but for awhile her mother would play records and sing and dance while she was high. Severina was young enough to simply enjoy those moments with her mother. Severina’s favorite was the Billie Holiday record. The song playing now sounded just like _Guilty_. Severina quietly sung along, barely a whisper,

_Is it a sin  
Is it a crime  
Loving you dear like I do?  
If it's a crime, then I'm guilty  
Guilty of lov…_

The Dark Lord pressed his cheek against hers. His skin was rough against hers and she could smell his hair… She pushed away from him and he looked at her with a furrowed brow.

“Is everything alright?” He asked with concern.

_Oh, gods he was insane. She knew it, of course, but it was never so obvious as it was at this moment._

“Did you set her up?” She asked him.

“Who? Miss Leroy? No, I saw it in her mind when I danced with her earlier. Rather a convenient opportunity to suit our purpose, don’t you think?” He smiled and his chest chuckled silently against her own.

 _Our purpose..._ “Yes… I’ve just realized that I’ve drank a little too much champaign and need the loo…”

He smiled and chuckled fondly, “Well, off with you, hurry back. I should start saying goodbyes. I suspect they’ll be more willing to clear out early tonight and then, I’d very much like to get you out of that gorgeous dress.” He chuckled more deeply, and his smile was gorgeous as he lead her away from the dance floor.

Severina, subtly looked for Sirius while she headed to the doors. She needn’t have worried, his eyes were fixed on her. She reached an empty room, knowing Sirius was following her and quickly asked an elf to fetch her velvet potions purse. The elf returned with the purse just before Sirius entered. The elf’s pop-off and the door opening was simultaneous.

“You invented that spell?” Sirius accused.

_Oh, great… she really didn’t have time for this._

“Actually, I invented it for you and the other Maraduers. If you must know.” She snapped back.

“Merlin, Snape…” He looked at her with horror.

“I never meant for it to be used… like that. Look, it doesn’t matter now.’ She pressed pouch into his palm. She explained the Felix Felicis to him. “Just get it to Lily for me. If everything goes to shit, if the worse should happen, make sure she gets the fuck out. I wish I had more to give her but it’s all I have…”

Sirius shoved the purse into his pocket and pulled Severina into his arms, cupped her cheek, “Let’s run away. We’ll take Lily and James and little Harry, Reggie, everyone we love and just run. Go to America or something. We’ll just start over. James will call me a coward but at least we’d survive.”

Panic bloomed in her chest, a deep seated panic, at the idea of running. She seemed to know it intuitively that leaving would mean something worse than death. She pushed him away,

“I can’t… I can’t ever leave… You run, take them all and run.” She begged.

Sirius started to shake his head, his eyes glassy with unshed tears and the door opened. There in the doorway, stood the Dark Lord. He looked between the two of them, propping himself up in the doorway for a moment, twirling his wand in his fingers, thinking. Then, he pushed himself off the door, pointed his wand at Sirius and hissed,

_“Crucio”_

Sirius’s body twisted and collapsed on the floor with a loud _smack;_ he screamed, his body arching off the floor and contorting. It seemed to go on forever. Severina stood frozen only able to watch and pray it ended soon. It did finally end and the Dark Lord dropped into a squat next to the whimpering mass that was Sirius Black.

“I’ve learned a lot about you tonight Sirius Black. First, of course, you are obviously, Albus Dumbledore’s spy. Secondly, you seem to have some sort of infatuation with Severina and finally, you love your brother, Regulus very much and would like him to keep breathing. So, this is what you are going to do. You are going to be _my_ spy, stay the fuck away from Severina, in fact tell Dumbledore he can find himself a new potions professor, and in return, Regulus will keep breathing his precious air.” The Dark Lord stood and watched Sirius regain the use of his limbs and push himself onto his hands and knees.

“Am I understood?” The Dark Lord asked calmly.

Sirius didn’t answer right away and the Dark Lord kicked him hard in the side, knocking Sirius on his back. He pressed a foot on his chest and pointed his wand at his face. The Dark Lord's face twisted in rage and he screamed- the veins in his neck protruding, “AM I UNDERSTOOD?”

Sirius’s nostrils flared and he answered between gritted teeth, “Yes.”

The Dark Lord’s voice calmed again, “Yes who?”

“Yes, my Lord.”

“Good, now get out. Your family is looking for you.”

Sirius glanced at Severina but she let her eyes fall instead of watching him crawl out of the room- knowing it was her fault. From the corner of her eye she saw him pull himself up on the doorframe before limping out of sight.

The Dark Lord turned to her and smiled widely, “Well this turned out to be a very interesting evening indeed. I had been so worried that I’d be bored out of my mind.” He chuckled, and wrapped a hand around her waist, pulling her against him, “Especially, with you avoiding me all night.’ He nuzzled her temple, burying his nose in her hair, ‘any other witch would have had the whole room know exactly who gave her such a dress and whose locket she wore.” His hand glided around her hip to grip her ass, pulling her pelvis into his groin. He was hard and she felt nauseous.

“Mmm… I need to say goodnight to a few more people. Such niceties must be observed, I’m afraid.” He pulled away to peck her lips before calling an elf to take her to his rooms.

Once she was alone, she vomited champagne and bile into the toilet until her stomach was completely emptied; then wept.


	12. Confessions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter I’ll post today. I’ll post more tomorrow! Thank you all again for your lovely comments and kudos!

When the Dark Lord Voldemort returned, Severina had pulled herself together enough to undress and clean herself; she stood naked in front of the mirror, staring at the locket that lay against her chest. When the Dark Lord appeared behind her in the mirror, she jumped and spun around, her back crashing against the sink.

His brow creased with concern,“Severina?”

He reached for her again and she screamed out in terror. Her magic, erratic and lashing out at him but he was stronger. He warded himself and gripped both her wrists in one hand while his other arm wrapped around her, pulling her into his arms.

“Severina.” His voice soft and soothing, “You’re alright; no one’s hurting you. You’re alright; I’m here and I’ll never let anyone one hurt you. You’re mine and I’ll keep you safe; you’ll stay here with me- always. I’ll keep you by my side; no one will ever touch you. You’re safe, I’ll protect you.”

Severina went numb at his words. Her body responded immediately to his proximity, to his touch, to his voice. She melted into his arms and her head laid on his shoulder, but inside she felt dead.

“But who will protect me from you?” She asked aloud.

He pulled slowly away and looked into her mind. Not that he’d see anything. She’d buried herself so far deep into her mind that she’d have a hard time finding herself. She was completely closed off. 

He took her face into his hands and called out to her, “Severina. Severina? Severina!” He kissed her but she was unresponsive. He kissed her lips and her cheeks, her eye lids and pressed his lips against her forehead, murmuring… “Severina…”

He bent to put an arm under her knees and lifted her into his arms. He carried her to his bed and sat her on the edge while he knelt before her. His hands holding her face to look at him.

He kept searching her face, her eyes, her mind. He started getting angry. Severina could tell; she could feel his anger- his magic poured off of him in hot waves.

He stood and paced the room, tearing at his hair. Then he spun, and strode toward her again, tipping her head up to look at him as he stood in front of her- her knees pressed into his thighs. With a shaking hand, he pulled a potion bottle out of his pocket. It didn’t have a stopper, she noticed and wondered how it hadn’t spilt in his pocket. He said a word she didn’t recognize and she was arrested by its scent. She felt that she could almost drink the air around her. She thought of a park, of a potions lab, and…

The cool lip of the bottle touched her lips…

“Your hair, in the morning,” She said aloud.

“What?” He breathed out his question like a gasp or a sigh.

“It smells like your hair in the morning.” She replied softly, in wonder.

He pulled at the back of her neck, pressed his forehead against hers and let out shuddered breath. Then he stood and dashed the potion against the far wall. He screamed and pulled at his hair again. Amidst his turmoil, the sweet scent of amortentia flooded her senses.

He turned to her, his eyes desperate and he was on his knees in front of her and searching her face.

“Say it.” He commanded in a shaking voice.

 _Say what?_ She wondered. _What does he want from me?_

“Say… say it, please say it.” He begged; his head dropped into her lap.

She didn’t understand, but her head felt heavy. She laid her cheek atop his head and breathed deeply the scent of his hair mixed with the overwhelming smell of the room and said the only thing that came to mind,

“I love you.”

His arms wrapped around her and he held her tightly, kissing her thighs.

“Again.” Again he commanded or asked or begged...

“I love you.” She repeated.

He kissed up her body, laying her down on the bed. He was removing his clothes and kissing her.

“Again.” He breathed

“I love you.” She said softly.

He was naked and on top of her. He made her say “I love you” again as he entered her and all the while, always asking her to say it again and never to stop saying it.

She wondered why he didn’t say it too. Even when his movements turned frantic and he was begging her to say it another time; she did and he came desperately and passionately inside of her, but he still didn’t say it. He lay against her shoulder, panting and caressing her neck with his lips,

“Tom.” He said.

Severina blinked, like she was just waking from a dream. Her mental walls trembling.

“What?” She questioned.

He lifted his head to look her in the eyes.

“My name... Tom. My name is Tom.”

Severina sucked in a breath and her walls came crashing down inside her mind. Her consciousness restored. She panted, “Tom…’ Her hands cupped his face and he pressed his cheek into her palms. ‘Tom…’ Her voice shook; he shifted and dropped his forehead to her chest and she felt hot wet drops spill between her breasts.

_Oh gods, what am I going to do? I love him. I really do._

Severina carded her fingers into his hair and pulled him close, bending her head to press her cheek against his hair. Her arms swaying a little and gently rocking them both. “Tom, I love you. I love you, Tom.” His arms wrapped around her torso and he squeezed her tightly to himself. They stayed like that until sleep soften their hold, but neither released the other even through the night.


	13. Shadows

The Ministry fell to the Dark Lord’s control within a month; St. Mungo’s, a few months after. The war was snowballing quickly and the Dark Lord, unstoppable. 

Severina had been present for every battle, always dreading that she’d see Lily in the midsts of fighting. She looked every time and thanked every deity she knew for never seeing Lily’s auburn hair. She saw Potter, of course; he and Sirius made a game of finding each other and play acting at battle- intentionally missing each other and hitting Death Eaters who fought around them. She hoped no one would notice, but if she had, someone else would too; they were playing a dangerous game. 

She’d seen Dumbledore too and a part of her wanted to run to him and beg him to take her back to Hogwarts. Another part of her wanted to remain in the shadows and hide and make sure no one saw or recognized her; that part of her always won. She hid in the Dark Lord’s shadow, wearing all black, even her mask was black.

The Dark Lord kept her close and taught her many things. He taught her how to fly without a broom- in a swirl of smoke. How to make her movements evermore graceful and wraith-like. How to cast Avada Kedavra without pause. She tried not to kill, if possible, but there were times that it was necessary. When he took captives- when he finished interrogating them and they begged for death; she was his executioner. He taught her to master mind magic so she could never trap herself in her own mind again. The knowledge, the power, the adrenalin was addicting. Being in the Dark Lord’s shadow was intoxicating. It frightened her how much she was learning to enjoy it all; she was losing herself in it. 

Hogwarts was next and in preparation, the Dark Lord had another Marking Ceremony and marked all the wizards and witches who had been putting it off and those who had only just graduated Hogwarts. Severina asked if she needed to brew him a few pepper-ups and vitality potions and an extra large batch of lust. 

“Why in the world would I need to ply myself with potions? Unless you have something special planned for me?” He teased. 

“You don’t intend to visit, the newly Marked?”

He laughed and shook his head. 

“Why not?” She asked.

He pressed his lips to her cheek, “I would’ve thought that was obvious.” Tom kissed her again, this time on her lips and he didn’t stop. 

If being with the Dark Lord was intoxicating and addicting, then being with Tom was… everything she couldn’t live without. 

———

Regulus and Sirius stumbled into the Order meeting. Sirius leaned heavily on Regulus and looked inches from death. 

“Padfoot!’ James moved to help support his friend, and shot Regulus a look, ‘What the hell happened?”

“Water.” Sirius croaked. 

Lily rushed over with water as Regulus and James sat him down at the dinning table. He drank it in large gulps and Lily kept filling it. He drank four glasses before he spoke again,

“Where’s Dumbledore?”

“On his way, he’ll be here soon.” James said.

The safe house floo flared and in walked a pale Dumbledore, who looked more his age than ever. His eyes didn’t seem to focus on anyone one in the room for some time, before he looked over at Sirius and Regulus,

“Did you get it?”

Regulus pulled out a handkerchief and unfolded it to reveal a silver locket with a green snake shaped in the letter “S.” He handed it to Dumbledore who laid it on the table. Dumbledore sat and stared at it while Order members filed in. When Moody arrived he came around to examine the locket.

“Is that it, You Know Who’s horcrux?” He asked in a grunt.

“Yes and no. It is one of them.” Dumbledore answered.

“What?” Moody gasped in horror.

“I’ve just received information from a reliable source that Voldemort intended to make _six_ horcruxes. It is unclear if he counts himself in that number or how many he’s already made.” Dumbledore informed.

Some of the Order members cursed or gasped and some went deathly still. 

“And who was this reliable source? Not Snape I hope, she hasn’t checked-in in six months.” Growled Moody.

“No, not Severina.’ Dumbledore looked between the Black brothers. ‘Any word?”

Regulus shifted uncomfortably. Sirius tensed his jaw and gritted his teeth, “She gives me images sometimes; sometimes she tell me things.’ Sirius nodded to the locket, ‘She showed me an image of the locket and…’ Sirius shook his head, he knew he must sound crazy; even Regulus looked at him strange. 

“So you’ve spoken to her?” Lily asked hopefully.

Sirius shook his head. 

“But you just said…” James cut in.

“I’m passable at occlumency but Severina has mastered occlumency and legilimency. She catches my eye, usual for only a moment, while the Dark Lord isn’t looking. At the last meeting, he asked to borrow a house-elf; everyone was confused because he has a house full of house-elves, but Severina caught my eye, told me it was a test and I needed to volunteer. She had more to tell me but the Dark Lord… anyway, I volunteered Kreacher and Severina was only able to show me an image of the locket and a potion but I didn’t realize…”

Regulus continued the story with a fury in his voice. “The Dark Lord took Kreacher to a cave infested with Inferi. He made Kreacher drink this potion- that must have been what Severina was trying to warn Sirius about. The Dark Lord put the locket into a basin and the basin refilled with the potion. He left Kreacher to die; if I hadn’t ordered him to return, he would have. The potion…” He looked to Sirius.

Sirius spoke, his eyes looking into the void of remembrance, his voice a mere whisper, “It was emerald green and glowed in the darkness of the cave… and it makes you see horrible things…’ 

“You drank it?” Dumbledore asked and Sirius nodded looking pale- silent tears fell from his eyes. 

Regulus told Kreacher’s story and how Kreacher had taken them back to the cave. “Sirius drank the potion and we got the locket. Kreacher was able to disapparate us in and out. We came straight here.”

“How can we know Snape won’t tell You Know Who that we have the locket?” asked Edgar Bones.

Regulus shot Bones a sneer. 

“Yeah, I mean, I know she was Dumbledore’s spy, but how do we know she’s still for us?” Longbottom asked.

“Exactly what is she doing in You Know Who’s ranks? It seems to me that she’s defected from us. If she were ever on our side to begin with,” said Fabian Prewett.

“Maybe she has her own reasons for leading you to the locket. Maybe she’s set you up,” added Gideon Prewett. 

Lily spoke up, “I don’t care what any of you say, I know Sev is still on our side and this is how I know,’ Lily pulled out the vial of Felix Felicis and held it up for the Order to see, ‘She gave this to Sirius to give to us. I hadn’t wanted to use it yet; she meant for it to be used in the worse case scenario, but with the ministry in You Know Who’s hands and St. Mungo’s as well.”

“Hogwarts is next,” Sirius croaked. 

“When?” Dumbeldore asked.

“We don’t know yet. Soon.” Regulus answered. 

“You don’t think you should’ve told us this sooner?” snapped Moody.

“Sorry, we were a little distracted fetching the Dark Lord’s horcrux! Which is only one of several, apparently- it doesn’t matter what battles we fight, win or lose; this war will never end because we can’t kill the Dark Lord.” Sirius growled

“Besides, we’ve only just been marked. We may have been allowed to fight but we weren’t allowed into meetings until recently.” Regulus added. 

“If Snape was still on our side, she could have told you more.” Moody groused. 

Sirius scoffed, “You don’t understand. The Dark Lord doesn’t let her out of his sight.”

“What do you mean?” Dumbledore asked, a crease appearing between his eyes. 

“He keeps her close.” Regulus shrugged and bit his cheeks.

“How close?” Dumbledore pressed.

“Close enough to touch… He’s always touching her.” Sirius answered through gritted teeth. 

“Ew… you mean Snape is…er snake-face’s squeeze?” Fabian asked, his face twisted in disgust.

“Snake face?” Regulus looked confused at Sirius. 

“They’ve only seen him in battle.” Sirius clarified.

Regulus huffed, “It’s a glamour; the Dark Lord is considered rather attractive and Severina is envied among many of the Dark Lord’s followers. Indeed, she has caused quite a stir. She’s his favorite and according to our father, he’s never taken a favorite before.”

“Do you think she’s given him a love potion?” asked McKinnon.

“No!” both Black brothers said at once. 

“Not after…No I can confidently say, she’d not risk that route.” Sirius said. 

“Do you think he really loves her?” Lily asked.

“I thought he couldn’t love because he was conceived with a love potion.” Aberforth stated, looking toward his brother.

Dumbledore looked thoughtfully at the locket. “He’s never shone any signs before that he could… but if the theory is wrong- if he can love, then he certainly can’t _truly_ love with a severed soul.’ He paused and looked at the Black brothers, ‘What are they like together?”

“Severina never shows emotions. She’s usually completely behind her occlumency walls. They communicate sometimes, in that way- they’ll look at each other and I’m sure they’ve just had a conversation. He usually laughs and she’ll smirk… sometimes he’ll kiss her.” Sirius said.

“He kisses her? Openly?” Dumbledore asked.

“It’s not like they snog, its just like a peck on her hand, her cheek, her lips, her neck…” Sirius’s voice grew hard and he ran his hand through his hair. “I don’t know what he _feels_ for her or if he is capable of feeling anything beyond owning her. She’s his. He makes it clear to everyone and the Death Eaters are either pissed, envious or they don’t care or they’d like to worship at her feet because apparently, it's better than it was before.”

“She calms him,’ Regulus added, ‘Father says the Dark Lord was becoming more and more unstable but since Severina… He’s still ruthless and unpredictable and pure evil but just less often. Father is one of those who’d like to keep her around. There is a group, lead mostly by the Malfoys- strangely enough, who would make her his queen. Our Mother, on the other hand, would very much like Severina to disappear, forever- she hopes she’s just a phase that the Dark Lord will get bored of and dispose of. Bellatrix thinks she can turn the Dark Lord’s head and he seems responsive sometimes… Though he always looks at Severina to see how she reacts. She doesn’t.” Regulus laughed, “Sorry, it's really not funny, but Sev- she’s still there, I think; if we could only speak to her.”

“Hmmm… In battle, which is she? What does her mask look like?” Dumbledore asked

Sirius and Regulus looked at each other confused.

“I thought you knew, but of course how could you have known…” Sirius muttered looking ashamed. “She’s the Shadow.”

Everyone in the room gasped and murmured. Until now, Voldemort’s Shadow was thought to be some apparition created by dark magic. It was always wherever the Dark Lord was, casting mostly defensive spells and flew around in whips of black smoke. No one could touch Voldemort; his Shadow was one hell of a defensive spell- or so they had thought. 

Dumbledore silenced them and said, “I think we know what we need to do then- we need to rescue Severina.”

“How are we going to do that?” Lily asked eagerly. 

Sirius stared at Lily, “I think I have an idea.”


	14. Abduction

Severina donned her black robes and looked down at the pitch black mask in her hands. They would be taking Hogwarts today. There were no students, of course, due to summer break and depending on how quickly the Order arrived, there might not be much of a battle. Nevertheless, Severina felt there was the chance it could be their longest battle yet; Hogwarts, unlike the ministry and the hospital, was a very sentimental place. Whether they realized it or not, they were all fighting over the rights to a place that they all held precious in their hearts and in their memories. More than that, Hogwarts represented the future. Who ever held Hogwarts, held the mind and hearts of future generations of witches and wizards. To win, meant the fall of Albus Dumbledore. He could surrender but she doubted he would. He could die today and Severina’s insides twisted painfully. 

Tom’s arms wrapped around her waist. He wore his battle robes but hadn’t cast his glamour yet. He rested his chin on her shoulder,

“Tonight, the war over Wizarding Britain will end.”

“And then what, my Lord?”

“Mmm,’ He breathed deeply and sighed in thought, ‘Then, I’ll set up a puppet ruler of some sort and onward to the rest of the world. First continental Europe, then the Americas and Asia, Africa. After tonight- the world.” He chuckled against her neck and kissed her.

“And your plans for me, my Lord?” Severina asked with an involuntary quiver in her voice.

He turned her in his arms and tilted his head to the side, his brow crinkled in confusion. “You’ll be with me, by my side- always.”

“You’ll not get bored of me?”

He asked bemused, “You’re mine, why would I ever be bored of you? Severina, where is this coming from?”

“I don’t know, I just have this feeling… foreboding.”

“Not about tonight, surely?”

“No. I’m sure of your victory, my Lord.” Severina answered honestly, though still uneasy. 

His frown deepened before he pecked her forehead. 

“Say it.” He always asked somewhere between a question and a command. 

“I love you, Tom.” She buried her face into his chest and wrapped her arms around him. He sighed against her, 

“You’ll always be mine, Severina’ He spoke softly, ‘Do you remember asking about my ring? I promised I would tell you about it.”

“Yes, but you already did. You said it was your family ring on your mother’s side- Gaunt, descendent from Salazar Slytherin himself.”

“Yes, but it’s more than that too.’ She stepped back to look at him. ‘Do you know what a horcrux is?’ Severina swallowed and nodded slowly, ‘It contains a piece of my soul, but also, your virgin blood. I’ve bond you to my very soul, Severina.” 

Tears welled in her eyes. Inside, behind her mental walls, she screamed out in abject horror. Outwardly, she gently cupped his face in her hand and kissed him tenderly. Pulling away, she said, “Oh, Tom…I love you- always.”

He rested his forehead against hers and sighed, before taking her mask from her hand and placing on her face, “Now, to our future.” 

———

The battle raged. Severina kept close to the Dark Lord; casting defensive spells, mostly. It was the most intense and deadly battle they’d fought yet. The Dark Lord had called on the dark creatures and they laid wasted to witches and wizards, left and right. The Light wouldn’t last long. Even the protective barrier and the stone guardians were mere hills on the Dark Lord’s road to victory. 

Dumbledore and the Dark Lord were dueling viciously. She’d never seen either of them so deadly before. 

_A horcrux. Dumbledore's fight is futile._ She thought, in despair. She couldn’t save him. Even if she tried, she’d only doom herself. 

A flash of red hair and Severina thought, _No it couldn’t be Lily. It’s probably a Weasley or a Prewett._ She was only trying to fool herself, because she was sure it was Lily’s form. Severina left the Dark Lord’s proximity to search for Lily. 

When Severina found her, her blood ran cold. Lily was dueling Bellatrix. Bellatrix was laughing an hurling dangerous dark curses and dancing around; having the best time of her life. Lily, was sweating and grunting with effort, blocking the spells. She was over her head. Bellatrix shot a curse and Severina could see clearly that Lily would not be able to block it. 

She didn’t even think, she just flew, and in a wisp of smoke she appeared in front of Lily. The curse hit Severina’s shoulder. The curse felt more like a punch or a push. Rather weak for a curse, really- in Severina’s opinion. It knocked her back into Lily. Lily fell to the ground, but Severina only stumbled and quickly righted herself. 

Bellatrix’s face went from surprised to gleeful in a moment and she shrieked, “Traitor!” at the top of her lungs. Bellatrix fought her in a fury- she was out for blood. Severina didn’t mind though; she felt no guilt fighting without reservations against this witch. Severina blocked a blasting curse and slashed a _sectumsempra_ that sliced Bella across her chest all the way up her shoulder. Severina hadn’t seen the rapid cast of the same curse from before. She felt like she’d been punched in the face; her mask flew off and she stumbled backwards again. Bella cried out in pain, but raised her wand. Severina cast a shield and felt arms wrap around her from behind and she was pulled by a familiar feeling of being hooked somewhere behind her navel and Hogwarts spiraled away. 

The next thing she knew, she was on her feet in a strange house and the arms around her fell away. Severina spun, wand pointing at her abductor ready to curse, but when she saw who it was her arm dropped, her eyes widened, and a look of relief and joy spread across her face. 

“Lily?” 

———

Voldemort grew evermore confident as the war raged in his favor. Dumbledore was weakening; he was sure. Dumbledore ceased offensive maneuvers and cast only defensive spells. It was quite annoying actually, but in the face of victory it had an aspect of encouragement too. 

Dumbledore’s eyes flickered away towards the sky for a moment and there between them ran a doe patronus charm. It ran the length of the battle field. 

“RETREAT! FALL BACK! RETREAT!” Shouted Dumbledore’s voice followed by the popping of disapparations. 

“Fuck.” Voldemort said under his breath but his troops cheered their victory. He looked over to where Severina would be but she wasn’t there. He scanned the area, but didn’t see her. “Severina?” He saw Nott standing nearby and called out to him, “Nott! Get a head count! Send the injured to the infirmary or St. Mungo’s. Come back with a number dead, alive and wounded.” 

“Yes, my Lord.” He said with a bow and off he went. It was a lucky thing Nott survived the war, he wasn’t particularly skilled in a fight, but he was excellent with numbers and logistics. Voldemort turned to say so to Severina and remembered that she wasn’t beside him.

_Where the hell, could she be?_

He closed his eyes and focused on his lattice work of magic that linked him to those who carried his Mark. There were many now. He found Severina’s and tried calling to her. There was no immediate answer and he tried again but was interrupted,

“My Lord!” It was Rodulphos Lestrange carrying his bloodied wife in his arms. Rabastian followed behind holding something black in his hand. They came to stand before him saying, “She’s lost a lot of blood, but before she passed out she said two words that I could make out: ‘Snape’ and ‘Traitor.’” 

“And I found this a few paces away.” Rabastian handed the Dark Lord Severina’s black mask. 

Voldemort stared at it a moment, his nostrils flaring. 

“Please, my Lord, healing spells have not worked… if it was Snape, then you know how to heal the curse?” Rodulphos begged. 

Voldemort examined Bellatrix’s wounds. He hissed, through his teeth. It was the _sectumsempra_ curse. He raised his wand over the wounds and chanted _vulnera sanentur_. 

“Take her to the infirmary and get her some blood replenishers. Inform me as soon as she’s conscious!” Voldemort commanded.

He held the mask in his hands and focused on Severina again. He tried summoning her. He tried calling to her and he thought for a moment there was a connection, her voice in his head _“Cap…”_ and then it was gone. 

“Fuck!” He spat.

_Captured? What else could it be?_

_Bellatrix has said ‘traitor.’ Captured by a traitor or that Severina was the traitor?_

_No. No, she wouldn’t betray me. She loves me; she said so._

_She loves Tom._ A voice- his own. 

_What?_

_She says she loves Tom. Are you Tom Riddle or are you Lord Voldemort?_ The voice asked, accusing. 

_I am Lord Voldemort._ He thought.

 _And who is she?_ The voice asked.

 _Nothing; she is nothing._ His mind answered.

His fingers caressed the mask in his hand. He looked up and hissed, Nagini came beside him. 

_“Find Severina.”_ He commanded her. 

_Yess, Masster…_ She slithered off, everyone giving her a wide berth. 

_She’s nothing._ His mind told him. His thumbs rubbing the inside of her mask where her cheeks had been. _She is nothing to me._ As his heart pounded and his throat tightened. His hands gripping more tightly around the mask. 

_She’s MINE!_ His mind snapped.

———

Severina hugged Lily like her life depended on it, “Oh, Lily, I’ve missed you so much. I’m sorry I couldn’t write or come visit. I… I can’t explain.”

“It’s okay, Sev, I’m just so glad you’re okay. Hold on a tick.” Lily stepped away and cast a patronus. Her doe leapt out through the walls and Severina stared after it. 

“Lily, where are we?”

“A safe house…” Lily didn’t say more, she just stared at her friend with strange eyes.

“Lily, I can’t stay. I have go back.”

“You can’t.” Lily said.

“I have to, I’m sorry, I can’t explain.” Severina pleaded.

“That you’re in love with You Know Who?” Lily tried to ask gently and with concern.

Severina’s mouth pinched. “You should run. Take your family and go. The Dark Lord can’t be killed he… he has… Look, Lily please just leave, save yourselves.”

“You know about the horcruxes?” Lily asked.

“What?”

“Do you know what they are? Do you know how many?” Lily asked frantically.

“How _many_?” Severina’s mind shuddered at the thought; her eyes widened in horror and she covered her gasping mouth with her hand. 

Just then the door opened and Potter ran in and wrapped Lily in a hug. Lupin and Moody were next and they eyed Severina suspiciously. Though, Lupin softened a little and approached her, “It’s good to see you Severina. Are you alright? Lily’s been rather worried; we all have.”

Severina looked at Moody and he narrowed his eyes at her. The door opened again and it was like time slowed as Dumbledore emerged. Severina thought she’d stopped breathing, tears welled up and choked her. He looked at her with warmth and tenderness. He opened his arms to her and she ran to him. He wrapped his arms around her and pressed his lips to her hair.

“You’ve done well, my dear. You’ve done so well. I’m so very proud of you.” His soft warm breath in her hair.

Severina shook her head and tears fell and she gasped her breaths. Her words, when she spoke came out in stunted chokes, “You can’t fight him again. I can’t save you. Please don’t fight him again.”

“Hopefully, there will be no need to fight anymore, but we’ll need your help. I need to ask you some questions and then, I’ll need to ask you to do something very important. Will do it Severina?” He asked her.

“What do you need me to do?” Severina feared this to be the moment- the moment he’d been leading her to; the moment when he asked something unforgivable of her. Maybe the thing that was unforgivable was not her own action, like she expect, but his. 

“Will you please, sit down, my dear?” He gestured to a chair that wasn’t there before- a basic wooden chair. _He’s going to interrogate me. He doesn’t trust me._ She realized.

“Yes, of course, Headmaster.” She sat solemnly. 

She chanced a glance at Lily, but Lily wouldn’t meet her eyes. Moody raised his wand and Severina didn’t even flinch as she was strapped to the chair with the ropes emanating from Moody’s wand. 

“She knew about You Know Who’s horcrux but not that he had more than one.” Lily’s voice informed, softly.

“How did you find out that the locket was a horcrux?” Dumbledore asked.

“I didn’t. I only knew it was important and that he meant to hide it in the potion he had me brew. You had asked me to tell you if I saw any items he might value. I do know that the ring he wears on his left pinky is a horcrux… He told me tonight before the battle.”

Her Mark started to tingle and she knew _he_ was looking for her. 

“Sirius says he keeps you close…” Dumbledore stated; Severina fought down annoyance at the passive-aggressive question. 

“Yes.” She answered.

“How close are you to him Severina?” Dumbledore asked.

“ _You_ told me to get closer to him. _You_ told me to rise in his ranks. That it was _vital_ that he should trust me above all others.” Severina accused rather than answered. 

“And does he?” Dumbledore asked.

“In his way, but he likes assurances. He trusts me but he keeps me close, keeps me from interacting too much with anyone; especially, Black.” She answered in clipped tones.

“Sirius says that you are Voldemort’s lover; is that true?” Dumbledore asked, finally getting nearer to his true question.

Severina didn’t answer. 

Potter and Moody scoffed. 

Severina answered, tiredly, “I doubt he’d use that term.”

“What term would he use?” Dumbledore asked.

“His. He says to me- ‘You’re mine.’ His to do what he wants. His to keep.” She answered. 

“Do you think he could be in love with you?” Dumbledore asked.

“You said he couldn’t love. I don’t know if he can, but’ she swallowed the bitter-sweet truth on her tongue and said, 'I think, it's the closest thing he has to love.”

“That’s all I needed to know. Now, my dear…”

Severina’s skin started feeling itchy. She wanted to leave. She felt like she _needed_ to leave. She needed to get back to the Dark Lord- to Tom. The air she breathed started to feel stale. Her Mark burned and tingled. He was summoning her- calling her. Order members trickled in. 

Severina schooled her features and asked, “Might I use the ladies’ room?”

“No you may bloody well not.” Grunted Moody and Frank Longbottom stared at her hard and suspicious.

“Then, might I at least have the use of my arms?” She tried again.

Lily’s face pinched, resolute as she raised her wand and loosened her binding around her hands. Potter snatched Lily’s hand with a disbelieving, “Lily!” As soon as Severina’s arms were free she snatched up her sleeve and placed her fingers on the writhing snake; she tried to call to him- to tell him, ‘Captured but safe. I’ll come to you as soon as I can…’ But all she transmitted was ‘Cap…’ before Moody and Longbottom were pulling her arms apart and binding her again to the chair; more tightly than before.

“Oh my god, it’s moving…” gasped Longbottom in disgust at the Mark.

“He’s calling me, I have to go. I have to go now. I have to go back. He knows I’m gone.” Severina whimpered. 

“I’m afraid that’s rather the point, my dear.” said, Albus Dumbledore.

“He’ll suspect Black. He knows Black is a spy.’ Severina turned to Potter and Lupin. ‘He’ll kill Sirius or torture him to insanity. I’ve seen him do far worse for less.” Their faces paled and Lupin shed tears but neither spoke as they turned to Dumbledore. 

“It’s a calculated risk, but if he wants to you back, he’ll have to keep Sirius alive,” said Dumbledore.

“You think he’d chose his _pet_ over his ambitions? You fools. When are going to stop thinking like fucking Gryffindors and start thinking like your enemy? I’m nothing in the grand scheme of things. He’s spilt his soul so he will live forever and not time nor space will hold him. He intends to take over the entire world and he is patient enough to do it. I am nothing! Nothing compared to his ambitions and woe to anyone who tries to stand in the way of a Slytherin’s ambitions. He only need wait you out. You should let me go back to him, find his other horcruxes and we can…’ She let out a chocked sob, ‘we… we can… destroy them.” And her chin fell to her chest as she wept silently.

Dumbledore knelt down to look at her and asked gently,

“Do you love him?” 

“Yes. I love him,’ and in barely a whisper that only Dumbledore could hear, she said, ‘I love… Tom.”

“And you’re prepared to destroy him?” He asked bluntly.

“He’s destroying himself.’ She looked up into his pale blue eyes, “Is this how you felt?”

“What?” His voice a soft gasp and his eyes narrowed.

“When you defeated Grindelwald? Torn? Desperate? How can I love a man who creates such chaos and destruction all around him? How did you do it? Muster the strength to take down the man you loved?” She asked, her eyes red and her cheeks glossy with tears.

“I… I hadn’t see any other choice, but if I had, I would have taken it.’ He pulled a vial out of his robes. ‘If I told you, there could be a way, to save Tom- to save his soul; no matter how slim the chance, would you do it?”

She looked at the unfamiliar potion and then into the sad understanding eyes of Albus Dumbledore and answered, 

“Yes.”


	15. Negotiations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have heard thy pleas, my dear readers, for another chapter. May this chapter sustain you until the morrow. Enjoy!

Sirius Black writhed and screamed on the floor of Hogwart’s Great Hall, and nearly bit off his own tongue. Voldemort had lost count how many _cruciatus_ curses he’d cast on the spy, but he’d kept them short, sweet and frequent. He was careful, however, not to do any permanent damage. 

Voldemort had reviewed Bellatrix Lestrange’s memory of Severina’s betrayal. She had, indeed, fought with Bellatrix and defended the very mudblood witch who portkeyed her away. For some reason, it didn’t shock him- it didn’t matter one whit; he felt nothing and it changed nothing.

His followers were arguing as much as his own mind. He didn’t need to hear their damned opinions. Some insisted that Severina would never betray him. Why would she? Her place was by his side. The others said that she had always been a spy for Dumbledore. They told him about her friendship with the redheaded mudblood in school who married the Potter heir. They suggested she and Sirius were working with Dumbledore’s Order and they could not be trusted. Some were bold enough to say ‘You can never really trust a half-blood.’ 

His mind was warring with images and suspicions. How strange her behavior that night in Cokesworth after she dutifully massacred her own parents, only to practically run down the street to a very specific house; how he’d thought he’d smelled floo powder and was it that redheaded mudblood he saw in those burning pictures? 

In battle, had she ever killed when he didn’t order her to? But then, she was always close by his side or at his back, casting shields and defenses. Did she not protect him? Did she not take hits that were meant for him? Had he not healed them himself as soon as they were home? She was his shield- his shadow. They spoke and communicated to each other with just a meeting of eyes. She made him laugh; her dry, cutting humor always made him laugh- truly laugh, no one ever made him laugh like that. No one understood him like she did- she always seemed to understand; he didn’t have to explain things to her. He was calmer when she was around- more focused, grounded. But now she was gone and so was that calm,

“Where is she?” Voldemort asked coldly.

Black sputtered and spit blood; he smelled like piss and shit. 

“I can do this all night,’ the sky was warming with the rising of the sun, he sighed cooly, ‘and all day if I must.”

“Ss..ssa..safe.” Sirius stuttered.

“What was that?” Voldemort bent down, and leaned in closely; his monstrous glamour still on.

“Safe. She’s safe.” Sirius coughed.

“Safe? Is that was Dumbledore told you?”

“She’s safe from you.” Sirius ground out.

Voldemort snatched Sirius’s hair and yanked his head up so that he might hiss into his ear, “If sshe’s not with mee, she’ll never be ssafe again. So, you’re going to fucking tell me where she is.”

“I don’t know.’ Sirius choked out, ‘Dumbledore didn’t want me to be able to tell you until the right time.”

“Hmmm…’ Voldemort threw the wizard’s head to the ground, ‘but he does intend to tell me? So, this wasn’t some rescue- this was an abduction.” 

Bella screeched, “But my Lord, I saw her! I saw her save that mudblood!”

Voldemort waved her off casually, and approached her. He took her face in his hands and kissed her forehead, “You did well, my dear.’ And she melted into his touch, ‘and Severina will be answerable for her actions; but she can’t be if she’s not here, can she?” Bellatrix looked up adoringly and huffed a small giggled and shook her head-‘no’. 

And just like that, all his followers fell in-line. Now, everyone wanted her back as much as he did, for one reason or another. 

His glamour hid his ring, but he still felt it weighing more heavily on his finger. He had tried to reach her through her Mark again and again. Even trying to summon her almost painfully, but he didn’t want to over do it lest her skin started to boil. Through all of this waiting, his mind kept reasoning- she was nothing and that his ambitions were everything. 

_I can have both. Why should I have to choose? Even if she did betray me, I could make her mine- I have time on my side._

She’d have to be punished, but that didn’t mean he had to do away with her. She was his, like Nagini, he just had to keep her in line sometimes. Eventually, they wouldn’t need to be reminded that they belonged to him. Severina was almost there. He remembered her before the battle, how she looked, how she sounded, how she reacted at being bound to him. She had said she loved him and kissed him so sweetly. Even if he had to punish her publicly, she’d still love him. Wouldn’t she?

“How will Dumbledore contact you?” He turned to the trembling mass of flesh that was Sirius Black.

“His f… pheonix. Fawkes.” Sirius’s muscles spasmed.

“Then we will wait. I can be patient. Regulus, tend to your brother. The rest of you are dismissed. Wait for my summons.”

“My Lord,’ Bellatrix approached him, she still looked at him adoringly even with his glamour, perhaps especially with his glamour, which made him smirk. He could almost believe she thought she was in love with him. It certainly wasn’t the first time he’d seen that look directed at him nor did he doubt it would be the last. Severina didn’t look at him like that. Severina had never looked at him like that. Her love had never been birthed from infatuation. It was like her love had hatched fully formed from its shell of fear and respect to the realization of a feeling that was steady and sure. 

Bella asked sweetly, enticing, “Might I come with you? When you fetch her, might I have my chance for vengeance?”

He looked at her sharply, but answered smoothly, “Rest assure that when Severina is returned to me, that _I_ will be the one to punish her publicly. Vengeance is _mine._ You may watch and be satisfied; you are dismissed, Bella.

Bella looked disappointed and, yet, strangely enough, even more besotted. She bowed and kissed the hem of his robe before she backed away in reverence. Voldemort rolled his eyes and sighed. He looked to his right out of habit to share a look with Severina, but the space beside him was empty. Had he been a normal man, subject to petty emotions, he perhaps would have felt a pain in his heart. He didn’t. He just felt empty. More empty than he had in long time. 

He looked at the Black brothers. Sirius had been cleaned and was being held up by Regulus. Voldemort conjured two winged back chairs and dismissed the younger Black brother. 

“So, Sirius Black. You and I shall, just wait, shall we?” Voldemort said genially, and gestured to the chair for Sirius.

Sirius coughed into his fist, blood splattering his hand and dripping off his lips to his chin. _He must have bit his tongue._ Voldemort thought, dispassionately, as he rolled his wand between his thumb and forefingers.

———

Nagini slithered into a garden across from a cottage. She followed the witch’s magical signature here. She was surprised how near the witch was- nearly under her Master’s nose (or lack thereof, depending on his choice of face). 

When her Master first commanded her to find the witch, Severina, Nagini didn’t think she would actually find her, let alone alive and Nagini could sense the witch was relatively unharmed. Nagini thought she might just leave her. Her Master had forgotten to command her to return to him. He said only that she needed to find Severina and she had. 

Nagini didn’t want to return. He was less human than she was. He had made her… Oh the thing he made her do- she’ll never forgive him. Her humanity hung by a thread but the little bit she had, hated him. The monster in her, craved the taste of a flesh that she should never have known- were it not for him. She had been mindless and powerless the moment he commanded her.

Nagini tasted the air, smelling Severina. She wondered if the witch was as powerless as she was, when _he_ commanded her to do the those unspeakable things. For the witch had done some terrible things all the while obeying him, protecting him, even loving him. 

Love. Had she loved? When she was human? She thought she might have once. Severina sparked something familiar inside of herself. It was that last thread of humanity that Nagini clung to desperately. That was why she didn’t move. She had found the witch, as she had been commanded. So, here she would stay, to watch over her. Because, if she were to leave, to slither away and make her escape, he might find her again, and she’d be nothing but an animal- a monster. Nagini licked at Severina’s scent over and over, hanging on to that last thread.

Regulus Black approached the cottage; he was cloaked but she knew his scent. He was alone and he entered the cottage unencumbered. So, she waited. A few moments later, a crimson and gold phoenix flew through the window of the cottage and toward the castle. 

And Nagini waited. Until, like a striking bite, her Master’s scent mixed along with all the other magical signatures in that cottage. Nagini sank back a little and made a decision and slithered to the darkness of the forest that bordered the Hogwarts Castle.

———

The phoenix had dropped a portkey, at the foot of the Dark Lord. It was a photo of Severina. She was young, in her school robes and she was smiling and looking self-conscious in turn. Something inside of himself, in his throat and chest down to the pit of his stomach felt pinched at the sight of her.

He picked up the photo and examined it more closely. His thumb absently brushing her hair. She must have been 15 maybe 16 in the photo. Her face was open and readable. He’d never known her like that. There were no walls in this picture- she hid nothing. 

He looked up at the broken young man in front of him, who was struggling to stand. 

“Who took this photo?” Voldemort asked.

“Probably, Lily. Lily had gotten a magical-powered camera the summer before 5th year. Took pictures of everyone that year, that was before….” Sirius trailed off.

“Before what?” The Dark Lord asked.

“Doesn’t matter. I’ll activate the portkey now, shall I?”

Voldemort nodded and they were pulled off by an invisible hook. When he landed, Sirius Black was gone and he stood alone facing Albus Dumbledore and holding the moving photo of Severina. They stood in a white room, without doors or windows- it was an illusion, he knew. So, he was to be kept unaware of their location. 

He waited for Dumbledore to speak. 

“Hello, Tom.”

Voldemort thought about how he might play this and after a beat he removed his glamour and looked up at the aged wizard with softened eyes.

“Hello, Albus.” He said in a whisper that suggested a longing for something long passed. 

“That won’t work on me Tom.” Dumbledore said firmly.

Voldemort took a step forward, keeping his eyes fixed on Dumbledore’s face. He was near enough to touch, and he lifted his hand to reach out to him, and sighed, “It used to.” 

“No.” Was all Dumbledore gritted out. 

Voldemort smirked, “No. I suppose not. I was just a distraction wasn’t I? A consolation fuck while the man you truly longed for ran a muck in America. You have the most unique taste in men, I must say, Albus.’ He huffed a chuckled, ‘Or maybe this is just the effect you have on us.” He grinned wickedly. Anger flashed in Dumbledore’s eyes followed by pain and guilt. Voldemort rolled his eyes in disgust.

“I… You were my student… I should never have. I’m sorry, Tom. I truly am.” Dumbledore’s shame and guilt rolling off of him in waves. 

Voldemort scoffed. “Oh that’s right, I told you I was jealous didn’t I? Of Grindelwald. Accused you of trying to replace him with me. I was probably more jealous of you for having been so close to such power. And to have let him slip through your fingers? You could’ve ruled the world together. I thought you the greatest fool and really, rather easy to seduce. I was only trying to distract you from figuring out that I was the heir of Slytherin though, I suppose you suspected me anyway.”

“You?” He gasped out through his lips and his eyes widened.

Voldemort laughed in a pitch higher than was natural. “Oh, come now, you knew it wasn’t Hagrid. You ended our trysts around that time… I was certain you knew.’ He laughed harder. ‘Hagrid? That bumbling creature lover? The heir of Slytherin?”

Dumbledore looked livid. Voldemort was feeling bored all of a sudden. Goading Dumbledore seemed to lack luster. He looked down at the photo in his hand, and the ring on his little finger, Severina’s face seemed to turn to look at the ring shyly before turning to face him with a timid smile. 

Voldemort breathed out a long breath, “Where is she?”

Dumbledore took a moment to regain his composure- a long moment. Voldemort itched with impatience.

Dumbledore finally said, “You can see her after you’ve surrendered.” 

Voldemort laughed in a staccato of forced air and each time he tried to answer, the laughter returned and crescendoed. Until he pulled his wand and all mirth vanished; he pointed his wand at Dumbledore’s chest. 

Suddenly, there were at least two dozen wands on him. He was surrounded by Order members who must have been there all the time. The room was still white and without any distinguishing features. It was at if they had all appeared silently into the white room. He felt no fear, however, it wasn’t as though they could kill him; but it meant a change of tactic. 

He lowered his wand and looked around the room. There were at least two ladies with red hair. One auburn and one bright orange. The auburn one was younger, about Severina’s age. He met her eyes and pushed through. 

Her mind was well organized but it ran wild- flitting from memory to memory. There was confusion and fear and that stupid Gryffindor stubborn-bravery they value so much. There was love there too. It was almost overwhelming the love this ‘Lily’ carried- love for her husband, her son, her parents, her sister, her friends, and Severina. He latched on, pouring through like a glutton, eating away at each memory- how they met, how Severina taught her magic, getting their Hogwarts letters, studying together, brewing together, they had been nearly inseparable. There was so much, so much he could almost watch Severina’s whole life through this young woman’s eyes. There was too much and he slipped from her mind as she fainted in her husband’s arms. 

_Fuck!_ He hadn’t gotten far enough. He’d let himself get distracted and didn’t get what he wanted. His head ached but he schooled his features as he returned his attention to Dumbledore.

“Tom!” Dumbledore snapped angrily.

Voldemort rolled his eyes, “That’s not my name. Not anymore.’ He answered bored, ‘So, that’s _Lily_ , is it?” He looked toward the mudblood in Potter’s arms, who cast a _rennervate _on his wife. It would have been kinder to leave her unconscious. She grabbed her head, in what must be a splitting headache. “It seems we are at a bit of an impasse. I’ll tell you what. Bring me Severina, and then we’ll talk. Negotiate. Whatever you have brought me here to do.”__

“If you want to see her, I need something in return.” Dumbledore said cooly.

Voldemort brushed at his own cheek with the back of his knuckles. He had grown stubble. It itched. “I have nothing to give.” He said absent-mindedly, thinking of obsidian eyes flecked with silver, like the night sky.

Dumbledore grew annoyed, “Hogwarts, St. Mungo’s, the Ministry, your conditional surrender… You have much to give.”

Voldemort blinked. “Conditional?”

“Severina of course.”

“Ah, yes. Your bargaining chip, as it were. You think she is worth all of that? To me?”

Dumbledore said nothing. Just stared at him. 

“She is nothing to me.” He stated blandly. “Certainly, not worth my surrendering all that I have won and achieved and strived for. She is not worth it. She is nothing. Worthless.” He gripped her picture in his hand.

Dumbledore saw. 

“Then go. Severina will be safe with us. You need only speak your name and the portkey will activate and take you back from whence it brought you.” 

Voldemort’s eyes squeezed shut in a prolonged blink and he scraped his tongue across his teeth. He looked again at ‘Lily’ and transformed his face into something pleading and needy and pathetic- as loathed as he was to do so,

“Please… I just need to see her. I want to know that she’s okay. That she’s safe.” He let his voice waver and his eyes moisten.

Her face soften a little and tears welled in her eyes, her mouth opened a fraction…

“No! Lily it’s a trick.” Dumbledore’s voice was strong and commanding.

Voldemort snapped his eyes to him. His face morphing into hatred and the promise of death. His eyes flashed red.

“SHE’S MINE!’ He shouted and his magic shook the ground causing some to wobble on their feet. More calmly but no less threatening, he continued, ‘She is bound to me. If I leave her with you, she will not be safe- she will suffer. She will feel such pain from being separated from me, it will feel like torture of the worse kind. If it prolongs she will lose her mind, her sanity will be forfeit.”

“What have you done?” hissed Dumbledore.

“She’s mine. I made sure she’d always be mine- I bound her to my soul.” Voldemort said.

Dumbledore’s eyes flicked to his ring for the briefest of looks, but it was enough. Voldemort hissed between his teeth. _He knew! He knew about the horcrux, he knew about the ring. She told him! She must have._

He heard soft pained, “No” come from the auburn mudblood. His head snapped to her and hissed,

“If it weren’t for you…’ Potter stepped in front of her as if to shield her from his hateful gaze.

“A truce then.” Dumbledore’s voice cut through stern and hinted with defeat.

“For how long?” Voldemort asked, only curious as to Dumbledore’s negotiation abilities.

“A year.” Dumbledore said.

“No more than three months.” The Dark Lord countered.

“Three months isn’t enough…”

“You won’t have a bargaining chip in three months. Not one worth saving, anyway.” Voldemort stated and he didn't want to think of what could happen to her mind after that time.

“Fine three months until renegotiations.” Dumbledore agreed and their magic entwined them to their agreement.

“Fine,’ The Dark Lord clicked his tongue and said, ‘now, where is she?”

Dumbledore turned to a grizzly-looking wizard in an Auror uniform. The wizard waved his wand and Severina emerged laying horizontally in midair- unconscious. Voldemort moved toward her but was stopped by three wands at his throat held by two young wizards and a witch all in Auror uniforms.

Dumbledore spoke, “I should warn you. She cannot leave this place until she wakes. The portkey you hold will only carry you.”

Voldemort bit his cheeks and looked hard at the ‘brave’ Aurors in front of him. He leveled them a deathly stare and his eyes glowed crimson. They paled and spread away from him, leaving his path to Severina open.

Her hair fell down, floating in the air- cascading down like an inky waterfall. When he reached her, he cupped her sleeping face and carded his fingers through her hair, supporting her head even though it didn’t need it. She barely breathed. He might have thought she were dead. Her skin was cold and her lips were practically white. His thumbs brushed at her skin desperately trying to warm the skin beneath them.

“What,” His voice came out soft and shaky, he swallowed; his eyes never left her face as he asked in a voice that pierced the listeners with fear, ‘What’s been done to her?”

Dumbledore spoke matter-of-factly, “Its an ancient potion- _Dormire Afflictus_.”

“A very dark potion, indeed. You surprise me. I didn’t think you’d be _brave_ enough to cross that line.’ The Dark Lord brushed his thumb across her lips. He sucked in a breath. ‘Tell me, I must admit, I forget; I haven’t read a fairy tale in some time. How does one wake the sleep of the heartbroken?”

“True love’s kiss.” Dumbledore answered.

“Of course,’ his voice low an dangerous, ‘and you think that I _love_ her?”

“It doesn’t matter what I think, Tom. I know she loves you- she told me. She loves you, Tom; truly she does.’ The Dark Lord closed his eyes and dropped his forehead to rest against hers. ‘Do you love her?”

His fingers slipped down the cascade of her hair and got tangled in the ends; he fisted her hair and brought it to his face and breathed in. His other hand caressed her cheek. He remembered how she was last night- no two nights ago, now. 

_He was sat on the sofa while she finished brewing healing potions in preparation for the battle- for themselves of course and for emergencies. It was why he’d taken St. Mungo’s before Hogwarts- because she was always brewing all the time, but now, she had more time for him._

_She cleaned her station meticulously. He liked to watch her. She had a system and everything had its place. Though herself was usually neglected, except for cleansing charms. She usually pulled her hair back while she brewed. It was always the last thing, when she cleaned up, to removed her hair from its tie and let it fall almost into her face._

_“Say it.” He commanded._

_She looked up at him as though she’d forgotten he was there and chuckled softly, a sweet little smile tugging at her lips. She approached the sofa and held out her hand to him. He guided her down into his lap and she straddled his legs._

_She looked into his eyes and responded, a she always did, “I love you, Tom.”_

_“Show me.” His request was soft and somewhere between a command and plea._

_She blinked and her lips fell in surprise. Then she cupped his face and caressed his cheeks. She stared into his eyes with that steadiness he’d come to depend on- that look that spoke her words for her. Then she leaned in and brushed her lips against his. She sighed, her breath washing over his mouth and between his lips- he could almost taste her. She pressed more firmly in her kiss._

_He spent the rest of that night watching Severina worship his body. She made him feel like a god and then humbled him into man and back again. Until, he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to be anymore._

_Her lips and mouth and hands mapped his face and his neck, his shoulders and chest- as she undressed him. His body was warmed by her touch and cooled by the wake of her tongue. She lowered his pants and lavished attention to his thighs, his knees and his groin._

_She’d taken him into her mouth that night, as deep as she could and moving up to suckle at the tip. Continuing until he was ready to explode against the back of her skull. She pulled away, to suck on her fingers. He didn’t have time or mental capacity to question her before she took him back in her hot wet mouth and circled the head on his cock with her tongue. His head wasn’t sure what it wanted to do, fall back against he back of the sofa or keep his eyes locked on her. She moaned around him and sucked deeply as she pressed her slender finger inside of him and stroked his prostrate. He erupted against the back of her throat with a cry he hardly recognized as his own. She sucked and swallowed him dry, until he was limp._

_She looked so damn smug. He couldn’t help the grin that made his cheeks feel sore from the force of it and his chest bubbled with laughter. He pulled her into his arms and teased her and tickled her until they finally fell into bed laughing and touching and kissing- teasing each other with their eyes and their fingers. He stripped her eager to reciprocate the attention she had lavished on him. He could almost taste her still- on his lips, on his tongue. The scent of her had been overwhelming and intoxicating; her cries and moans of pleasure- divine._

 _In the dim of the morning, he woke to her kissing his chest and encouraging his arousal. He could remember clearly how soft her skin looked in the morning light, as she rode him. Her breasts rising and falling as she rose and impaled herself on him, over and over again. When she came she cried his name- “Tom!”_

“Do you love her, Tom?” Dumbledore asked again, breaking through his memory like a rock through a window.

He opened his eyes- they felt hot and his vision blurred. Her face was pale and lifeless. He pressed his lips to her cold forehead and he thought he felt something burn against his ribs. He lowered his lips to hover over hers and he gently descended- lip to lip, a kiss. He felt the intake of breath against his mouth and he pulled away enough to gaze hopefully at her face.

But there was no change; except a sigh from her lips- “Tom.”

He dropped his head to her breast bone and wrapped his arms around her. He let out a shuddered breath- his shoulders shaking, but feeling was leaving him. No tears were shed- his eyes cooled and his breathing evened.

He straighten himself, raise an eyebrow to Dumbledore and said, “I supposed not.”

“No, that only proves you do. You love her. The problem isn’t your love. It is your soul. Only true love’s kiss will wake her and you cannot _truly_ love without a whole soul.”

So that was game. Dumbledore wanted him to restore his horcruxes. He wanted him to _feel_ remorse- true remorse. That was impossible! The pain of true remorse was not only excruciatingly painful, but could also be fatal.

“I suppose, we will be seeing each other in three months time.” Lord Voldemort said cooly. He looked back again at Severina’s prone figure one last time and stroked her cheek with his knuckles. Then, holding her photo, he spoke three words- “Tom Marvolo Riddle,” and was gone. 


	16. Everything

Severina was distinctly aware that she was dreaming. She found herself in a world that she did not know but recognized intimately. Everything was the same and yet different. People in Diagon Ally flitted from shop to shop but it felt bigger for some reason. She watch for a long time. Going in and out of shops. No one could see her, people didn’t walk through her exactly but they didn’t walk into her either. 

Then she realized there was so many _more_ people- people she recognized and people she didn’t. Shops were larger and the street widen to accommodate the influx of people. She caught sight of someone who made her heart leap to her throat. 

_Lily!_

Severina followed her. This dream-Lily was younger than she was in reality; she was humming to herself happily- practically skipping down the street. Severina followed Lily into a café full of young witches and wizards. David Bowie’s music was playing from a record player, ‘Golden Years.’ David Bowie had been her favorite the moment she found out he was a half-blood just like her. 

Lily squealed in delighted when she reached James Potter and he gathered her into a loving embrace and kissed her soundly. They pulled apart and Lily sighed, 

“Just one more year of Hogwarts. Can you believe it?”

“And then our wedding and on to our happily ever after.” James smiled warmly, lovingly and kissed her again.

“Oye, mate! Get a room!” Sirius barked out good-naturedly. Regulus was beside him smirking and shaking his head in mock disapproval. 

“You’re just jealous.” Snickered a voice Severina was most surprised to hear in this establishment. Petunia sat next to Pettigrew, who had his arm wrapped possessively around her shoulders. 

“Of what? Of you Evans chicks macking on my mates 24-7? Not in the least, I assure you.” Sirius scoffed.

“Don’t listen to him for a minute, Tuny, sweetie. You’re absolutely right, he’s jealous.” They leaned in and nuzzled their noses together. Severina felt she might puke and hoped this dream was not going to turn into a sordid nightmare. 

The shop bell dinged with the entrance of more people and she heard her own voice- it made her jump. She spun and saw herself, walking next to Lupin, talking excitedly. She had books held to her chest and a shopping bag hung from her elbow. She… she was… beautiful and healthy and clean and happy. It brought tears to her eyes and an ache to her chest to see it. 

“…so my grandfather said, once he officially adopts me, he can help me get my apprenticeship with Master Belby!” dream-Severina said excitedly.

Lupin went breathless in awe, “The potioneer whose working on a wolfsbane potion?” 

“Yes! There’s no guarantee of course… Grandfather doesn’t actually know him, but the Prince name holds some weight and with my references from Slughorn and Dumbledore and my OWL scores, it might be enough. Well, he may want to wait to see my NEWTs but I’m pretty confident… Soon, Moony… I promised you, didn’t I?” dream-Severina spoke in earnest. 

Lupin’s eyes were red-rimmed and he swallow down a lump in his throat as he wrapped an arm around her and kissed her temple. As soon as Lupin removed his arm, she was wrapped up in another’s. Sirius Black came up behind her and picked her up and swung her around. Dream-Severina actually squealed and in a breathless laugh, 

“Padfoot! Put me down, you’ll make me drop my books!’ He beamed down at her and she turned to him, shifting her books in hand so she might slap his chest. ‘When are you going to grow up?”

“With any luck, never!” He bent down and pecked her cheek.

Dream Severina happily greeted everyone and they were genuinely happy to see her. They chatted awhile and Severina watched and felt happy just to watch. 

“Well, I don’t know about you lot, but I would love some ice cream! Whose up for Florean Fortescue’s?” Sirius asked the group.

Everyone agreed and stood to leave except dream-Severina; she gathered her books and said, “Not me, I’m afraid. I have one more errand to run.”

Severina was surprised how disappointed they all looked. 

“Well, we’ll go with you and then ice cream after.” Lupin suggested.

“No, it’s okay, go on without me. This is something I need to do on my own and its not in Diagon.”

“Can you join us later?” asked Lily.

“I have to meet my grandfather later. So, I’ll say my goodbyes now.” She turned to Lily and Petunia and pecked them both on the cheeks, waved the boys goodbye and headed out with her books and her shopping bag. 

Severina moved to follow but she didn’t seem to need to. Everything faded out and she was all at once somewhere else. Dream-Severina had put away her books and shopping, _reductoed_ into her purse and pulled out a gift wrapped box. It was green with a silver string and embossed with glossy shimmering scales. Severina gasped when she recognized where she was. 

Dream-Severina was greeted at the door by a happy little house-elf that Severina thought she recognized, but this house-elf was wearing a fine tunic robe and a bright smile. The elf lead Severina through the house to a sitting room where she waited to meet “Mr. Riddle.”

Dream-Severina looked around nervously and chewed her bottom lip. She didn’t have to wait long; the door reopened.

“Sorry, to keep you waiting, Miss…” The Dark Lord Voldemort entered. He was dressed in smart business-formal wizard robes and his hair was slicked back. He looked achingly handsome, but that wasn’t what made her catch her breath- he looked… _whole_. She couldn’t think how else to describe it, but she felt it immediately. This wasn’t the Dark Lord. This wasn’t the feared, Lord Voldemort. This was Tom Riddle with his whole soul intact. 

His eyes met dream-Severina’s and he seemed stunned speechless. Dream-Severina didn’t notice. She started talking clearly, quickly and with purpose like she’d rehearsed everything she meant to say, many times, before she came.

“Miss Snape, sir. Well… Soon to be Miss Prince, once my grandfather can officially take custody of me.’ She cleared her throat. ‘Which is why I’m here sir, once the adoption goes through, I won’t be needing your scholarship anymore. I know that you have many students that you sponsor and I’m sure the money can go to someone who can benefit from it, as I have.” 

She blushed a little. Mr. Riddle hadn’t said anything and had only just been able to close his mouth properly, only to have his left lip turn up in a sort of smile, smirk.

She continued, “Thank you for allowing me this meeting. You see, I wanted to thank you in person for all that you’ve done for me, even if you didn’t know it. Especially, because you couldn’t possibly know how much your sponsorship through my six years of Hogwarts has significantly improved my life and the opportunities I will have for the future. I intend to be a Potions Mistress. I’ve applied to apprentice with Master Damocles Belby so, I can help him brew a working Wolfsbane potion for lycanthropes. That’ll just be the beginning, though, I hope.’ 

Dream-Severina’s eyes lit with hope and joy at all the future could for hold her, ‘I hope to make a difference in this world. Make an impact that’ll help others. The way you have.’ 

She looked down, bashful and stepped toward him holding out the gift to him, ‘It’s not much and it's more symbolic than anything, but will you accept this, rather humble, gift of gratitude?”

Mr Riddle cleared his throat and tentatively reached for the gift. His fingertips grazed hers as he took the gift from her hands. Dream-Severina blushed deeply and took a step back, letting her arms wrap lightly around herself.

“Thank you, Miss Snape, I’m glad that’ He cleared his throat and his eyes flitted around the room a moment before landing on her. He chuckled, self-deprecating, ‘I’m usually not at a loss for words.”

“Oh, that’s alright, I know you’re a busy man and I don’t want to take up much more of your time. I’ll see myself out.” 

Dream-Severina smiled brightly and started toward the door. Mr. Riddle’s face fell in astonishment and disappointment. She only made it a step before she stopped, ‘Oh! Actually, I may have to explain the gift a bit…” Dream-Severina bit her lip and looked down at the box like she wished she’d thought this part through. 

Mr. Riddle, however, smiled widely and took up the opportunity with his usual ease and confidence, 

“Then, please, Miss Snape, I insist you take tea with me and tell me all about your gift and some more about yourself.” 

He called a house-elf and ordered tea. Then he lead her gallantly to sit beside him on the settee, ignoring the two wing back chairs which faced each other with a coffee table between. The house-elf, when he arrived with tea, looked at the seating arrangement oddly and moved the table so it would be nearer the settee. 

Dream-Severina noticed, but chose not to comment; while Severina watched on with a little chuckle at his antics. He always preferred sitting with her on the sofa. If she ever chose a chair instead, he’d either command her to come to him on the sofa or he’d walk over and lift her up to carry her to the sofa and seat her in his lap… well a few times he’d simply taken her straight to bed, but only when he was sure she’d chosen the chair just to get him to pick her up in his arms- not that she’d ever admit to doing such a thing. 

“I must say I throughly approve of the wrapping. Did you know I was in the Slytherin house?” Mr. Riddle asked.

Severina looked away with a smile then returning her eyes to his, “Yes, I’m pretty sure everyone knows.”

He tsked, “Do I mention it often?” He smirked. 

“A bit. I’m in Slytherin, myself.” She informed him.

“Are you?” He asked, pleased.

She nodded, “I wouldn’t lie to you. How have you not opened it yet? I’m ready to open it and I know what’s inside.” 

They both laughed.

“Oh alright,’ He undid the silver string, ever so slowly, letting it fall away before starting on the paper. He took his time, pealing off corner by corner being ever-so-careful not to rip any of the wrapping. All the while he would glance up at Severina with a smug little smirk and she knew he was teasing her. Severina schooled her features, however, and picked up her cup of tea and sipped patiently for him to finish. He chuckled deep from his belly when she did. 

It was a wooden box; on top- a silver plate engraved with the words, “To Mr. Tom Riddle with deepest gratitude, your devoted servant, always, Severina Snape-Prince.” He lifted the lid and inside their silk-lined beds, lay three potion vials. He touched the first with is finger tip, “This one is empty.”

“Yes, it's symbolic. It represents me and my life before you… your scholarship. I had nothing and I was nothing. The next…” She pointed to the golden potion beside the empty one.

“Felix Felicis.” Mr. Riddle identified.

“Yes,’ she smiled at him, ‘Though it's a stronger form, I’ve come up with a way to concentrate it. A drop will last a day and the bottle a month.”

“Truly?” He asked, clearly impressed. 

She chuckled softly, “Don’t sound so shocked and I told you, I wouldn’t lie to you. Yes, truly.’ She added hurriedly, ‘Not that you need luck.’ He smirked and she continued with a blush, ‘It can also be seen as symbolic. Not only because you have given me fortune and luck in my life, but also that you have given me an opportunity to improve myself- even more than, may have otherwise been thought possible.”

He swallowed and moved to the next. His brow pinched together, bewildered, “Is this a love potion antidote?”

Dream-Severina laughed and covered her mouth to regain control. He looked at her still puzzled but a smile playing on his lips.

“Ah, yes… that’s actually a bit of a joke. Your so often on the cover of _Witch Weekly_ , my friends and I have a running joke that you must drink love potion antidotes with your English breakfast. Sorry… its just a bit, well…” She didn’t finish her thought, so busy were the two laughing.

Severina watched them- laughing and happy, healthy and whole. Her eyes burned and welled with tears that fell freely down her cheeks. The scene disappeared before her eyes, the couple still laughing and talking and enjoying their first meeting.

She found herself again at the Manor; this time, she thought she’d walked into a memory instead of a dream. The Hall was decorated just like the New Years celebration- the clock counting down to midnight. The only difference, though not at all insignificant, was the people in attendance- purebloods, half-blood, muggleborns, even Petunia was there- a muggle and she was dancing with Pettigrew wearing a diamond engagement ring. The entire atmosphere was joyous and celebratory and everyone was happy to be there. 

Dream-Severina was wearing that same dress Severina had- the emerald gown with the silver snake adorning her open back. She was finishing a dance with Regulus Black. When the song ended, Mr. Riddle approached and asked her for the next dance. It was close to midnight; the last dance before the New Year. Severina wondered at him not making a speech, but neared the couple as the music began.

Dream-Severina, spoke, “I was hoping to speak to you before midnight struck.”

“Oh? Why’s that?” Mr. Riddle asked. 

“Happy Birthday, Mr. Riddle.” dream-Severina said with a genuine smile.

He huffed out a small laugh and his eyes dropped to her shoulder,

“Thank you, Miss Prince.” 

“I would’ve gotten you a gift, but I seemed to have used up all my ideas on your last one.” 

His smile fell a little and he didn’t meet her eyes- his focus on the fabric of her dress, 

“This is a lovely dress. Wherever did you get it?” He asked.

Dream-Severina sighed, “Thank you. Everyone’s been asking me, all night. I thought at first it had been my grandfather but he insists he didn’t. I think he knows who did, though. I asked my friends but they said they didn’t… I wish I knew.”

Mr. Riddle squeezed his eyes shut and rested his cheek against her temple, “It was me.”

Dream-Severina pulled back,

“You?”

He smiled ruefully, “I wouldn’t lie to you. Do you like it?”

“Its beautiful. Probably the most beautiful thing I’ve ever worn…”

“Its…The reason your grandfather knew who sent it was because I’ve asked him permission… That is to say, the dress is a formal… a bit old-fashion ritual. You see? Umm I’m explaining this badly. You seem to have this uncanny affect on me…”

Dream-Severina could only gape and try her best to follow his logic.

“The thing is… it's a courting gift. Your grandfather has given me his blessing to court you, but, of course, I would like to ask you… Severina Prince, will you allow me to court you?” Mr. Riddle asked, his earnest eyes on the witch in his arms.

“Me?” dream-Severina asked in astonishment.

He laughed. People were counting down to midnight, “Five!... Four!... Three!... Two!…"

“Yes.” She answered- smiling widely and nodding. His smile broke free and he cupped her cheek and captured her lips. She raked her fingers up his neck and into his hair, pulling gently forward to keep him there. His arms wrapped around her and he held her body along his as the gold and silver confetti fell around them. All around them people were cheering and kissing and drinking and clapping each other on the back.

The scene faded out and Severina found herself standing in a very familiar sitting room- the one she knew attached to their bedroom. She felt like she’d come home. 

“Severina?”

Mr. Riddle sat on the sofa, something had been in his hands. She thought it might have been a photo, but he quickly tucked it in his pocket and went to her. He was looking right at her and his hands held her shoulders,

“Darling, is everything alright? You don’t look well. I thought you were at Godric’s Hollow tonight with little Harry. Oh Circe, is Harry okay?” He looked truly alarmed. She was speechless for a moment and his concern was only growing.

“H…Harry is fine. Lily couldn’t stay away from him any longer. Honestly, I think she’s the one suffering separation anxiety.” It was something that happened before in Severina’s reality, but it had been Lupin and Black who had said it. Severina had never been given enough time off being a spy to ever watch Harry alone. Potter certainly wouldn’t have allowed it.

“Sounds about right.” Riddle chuckled and stroked her arms. His hair was starting to thin in the front and he had lines around his mouth and at the corners of his eyes- a sign that he smiled often enough to imprint them into his skin.

“What was that picture I saw you looking at when I came in?” Severina asked.

“Oh, that… you saw that, did you?’ He blushed a bit and scratched the back of his neck, he sighed, ‘You’ll think me a sentimental old fool.’ He took her hand and lead her to sit with him on the sofa. She moved to sit beside him but he pulled her legs across his lap. ‘Our wedding photo.” He pulled the photo out and handed it to her. 

She gasped and stared in wonder at the happy couple in the photo. Dream-Severina looked beautiful. Her husband would always be the more handsome of the two, but it wasn’t so obvious in this captured moment. Especially, with the way he turned from the camera to look in awe at his bride. She turned too, with so much love in her eyes. Next to them, surrounding them were family and friends. Mostly, friends because neither had any true family to speak of, but Severina thought she resembled an elder wizard in the photograph and wondered if that were her grandfather she had never met in her own reality. Lily was there and Tuny and all the Evans, along with all the Marauders, the Black, the Malfoys, some Slytherins she recognized and Dumbledore… He stood next to Tom, smiling brightly, his eyes twinkling. 

Tom tsked, “Albus, the old coot, off galavanting around Africa now, I’ve heard, but I’ve been promised a chess match as soon as he returns. You can take the winner, eh?” He chuckled softly and pecked her temple. Then he saw the tears streaking her cheek. “Severina? What’s the matter?”

“This is who you were meant to be; who we were meant to be.” She whispered in realization. This is what they could have been, had Tom Riddle made different choices in his life. If he had never killed; if he had focused all that power, charisma and ambition into a different life- a happier life, a whole life.

“Hmm? Oh, I suppose I know what you mean. I feel that I am just where I’m meant to be. I mean, I have you, don’t I?’ His fond look turned teasing, ‘I was prepared to fight two Black brothers and a werewolf for you. Fortunately for all involved, you nipped my possessiveness in the bud and told me straight-out, ‘I am not a thing to be owned, Tom Marvolo Riddle. I chose you and will continue to choose you because I love you, but that doesn’t mean you can own me.’ That was the first time you said you loved me.” Tom Riddle grinned, the well-used skin around his eyes wrinkling- unwilling to limit the emotion to his lips. 

She looked him in his eyes; her own eyes, glassy with tears. She cupped his cheeks gently, and leaned in to press her lips to his. When she pulled back, his eyes had closed softly and a happy smile pulled his lips. 

“I love you, Tom, and I am so very proud of you.” Severina told him with all her heart.

He sighed and looked at her in wonder and with an emotion she had never truly seen in his eyes before, “Oh, Severina, I love you, too.”

He said the words so easily, like he’d said them a thousand times before without the truth of them ever diminishing. The impact those of words overwhelmed her. She collapsed in his arms and wept. He rocked her and brushed her hair with his hand. 

“Tom… I love you… so much.” Severina gasped out between sobs.

“Oh, Darling, I love you. I love you. You are everything to me Severina, you must know that. You are everything to me.” He held her tightly to his breast and the steady beat of his heart echoed through her.

She held him to her so tightly, that when he faded away, her arms had no where to go but to continue around herself- folding in and weeping into the darkness that surrounded her. She didn’t have to look to know, she was alone and in the dark.


	17. Trapped

Severina didn’t know how long she existed here- in the dark. She had no concept of time, except for the increasing pain she felt; like being _crucioed_. The Dark Lord never personally _crucioed_ her, but it was part of Death Eaters trainings. Bella’s was always the worse. That’s what it felt like, alone in the dark, being tortured by Bellatrix.

Severina tried not to scream out if she could help it- even though she was alone and no one would hear, but she couldn’t always help it and she screamed and cried out. Her Mark itched and burned and she tried to scratch it off her skin. She had made it bleed once, her nails digging into her arm like claws and pulling back the skin until blood seeped out. For some reason, she hadn’t been able to do it again.

Another torment, the worse by far, was the visions. No, the memories. It remained dark all around and yet she could see so clearly. She saw her parents and she watched as she murdered them. She saw Stella Leroy and watched herself cut the witch’s hand off. She watched herself commit every horrible act she was guilty of- the first muggles she practiced the killing curse on, the ministry officials, the mediwitches and mediwizards who had resisted, any muggleborns they found. So many. There were so many. She watched herself kill them all and she cried out,

“I’m so sorry!” She didn’t make excuses, rationalize her actions, or ask for forgiveness. She felt such remorse for her actions that all she could do was weep and cry out, “I’m sorry!” until her voice was cracking and horse and her tears ran dry. Then she curled into herself, rocked herself forward and back and forward and back, again and again. She wonder if her mind would survive these series of torments.

Strangely she felt better. Where she had once felt like shattered glass with cracks all throughout and pieces all over the floor, she now felt whole. Like she’d been knit back together and that feeling was worth the loss of her mind, if that’s what it cost.

Sometimes, _he_ would appear. In all his forms. Sometimes he would just stand there and look at her in disgust. Sometimes he talked, “Do you know why I don’t love you? How could I? You're weak and pathetic.” Or “Merlin, you're ugly, how did I ever manage to get it up? Your father was right, you’re not even pretty enough to get fucked. I probably took a lust potion _every_ time.” Or, “This is for the best, really; I was getting bored of you. I would have killed you eventually or simply dismissed you while I moved on to the next witch. You should be grateful you’re here.”

Sometimes he did _crucio_ her and it was worse than Bellatrix. Severina would cry out for death. She begged, “Kill me, please! Just kill me!”

Other times, he looked like the Tom Riddle from her dream- the one who was whole and who loved her. He opened his arms to her and she ran or walked or crawled or whatever it took to reach him; all the while she called to him, “Tom! Please... Please, Tom!” What she begged from him she wasn’t entirely sure. She was overcome with desperation to be near him- to have him touch her, even if it were to kick her. She never reached him. He was always too far away. No matter how far she crawled or how much she begged- he was always out of reach.

Eventually, his mirage vanished all together. She didn’t feel comforted, though- her heart ached and her desperation only grew. She simply existed in the darkness. Alone.

After a time, there in the darkness, a dim grey-light appeared. She squinted at it- it looked like the outline of a door. As she approached, she gasped at the voice calling to her on the other side,

“Severina, come through the door. I don’t know if it’ll last. You need to come through, now!”

It was Tom, he sounded different, but she knew it was him. She ran, threw open the door, hands grabbed her and pulled her in.

It was dark on the other side, too- she noticed immediately.

“I did it! Well, of course, I knew I would eventually…” It was Tom’s voice but it was a little higher, younger and more arrogant- if such a thing was possible. She turned and looked into the face of a teenaged Tom Riddle. They were surrounded by darkness, but she could see him clearly.

“Tom?” She asked.

His faced pinched. “You shouldn’t call me that. You’re one of my followers, my Death Eaters. You should refer to me properly.”

She blinked but nodded reverently. She knew this game well, “Forgive me, my Lord.”

His face soften and his shoulders shagged a little,

“You’re forgiven.”

He unconsciously, reached up toward his neck before realizing what he was doing and dropped his hand to his side. It was too late, her eye caught the vial that hung around his neck on a silver chain. It looked like a vial of blood. Just like the one she’d given to the Dark Lord the first night…

“You’re bound to me, by this,’ He raised his hand again and touched the vial gently with his fingertips, ‘your blood you gave him… me.” He straightened his spine and seamed to both smirk with confidence and challenge her with his eyes.

“My virgin blood… that you bound to your soul… to the horcrux in the ring you wear. Yes, I remember, my Lord.” She said piecing the puzzle together.

He nodded and then his eyes lit up with boyish excitement, “Yes, exactly, it's how I was able to pull you through. Your body is still where it was, of course, but now your soul is here with me.”

“You’re the Dark Lord’s Horcrux then? The piece of his soul inside the ring…’ He smiled proudly and nodded, “Do our souls share a Horcrux then?” She asked.

He scoffed, “You are not a proper horcrux. Making a horcrux is much more complicated than that. You are not a fragmented soul, you are still whole. Your blood is a mere a link, but isn’t actually a piece of your soul, you see? But, I was able to follow the link and reach out and pull your soul into the ring with me.” His eyes had brightened as he talked. Clearly excited to share this accomplishment with her.

“Can the Dark Lord communicate to me through you?” Severina wondered allowed.

“No,’ he sounded annoyed, ‘Well… I mean I suppose in a way… since I am the Dark Lord, then yes.”

She couldn’t help her smile if she tried. He noticed and Severina was sure he blushed a little before wrapping his hand behind his back and puffing out his chest.

“I am honored to be once again in your presence, my Lord.” She teased but he didn’t seem to notice.

He simply nodded his assent.

“Can you communicate to the other horcruxes?” She asked. Apparently, her curiosity was still intact.

“No. Not really. Not like you and I are now, but I can sense them if they are near enough. Well… Since Lord Voldemort is wearing the ring, I can sort of sense his thoughts about things, about people… Oh, and I can _hear_ things.’ His eyes took on a wicked gleam, he smiled cruelly and all around them echoed the sounds of sex. Grunting and moaning. Voices she recognized and her stomach turned viciously. “Like how he’s fucking Bellatrix right now.’ He laughed, ‘Does it bother you?”

She didn’t answer him. She was too focused on trying to block out the sounds. Her face grew hard but she had no magic here. She had no occlumency. She tried to school her features, but a tear escaped nonetheless.

The sounds were gone. She looked over at the young Dark Lord and he was looking toward his feet, his hands still behind his back. His weight shifted slightly from one foot to the other.

“He doesn’t… he prefers you. I can tell. He can barely stand her.” He said.

“It doesn’t matter. I understand what I was to him.” Severina said bitterly.

He continued, “You left a scar on her body- on her chest up to her shoulder. He never lets her stay long, only long enough to touch your scar.’

_Merlin, he thinks he’s being comforting._

“I thought you’d find it funny. She’s completely ridiculous, the sounds she makes. You don’t sound like that. You…’ He looked at her with heat in his eyes, his tongue flicked over his lips and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, ‘You have an enchanting voice.”

“Thank you, my Lord.” She answered mechanically, still reeling from what just occurred.

“Will you say it?” He asked, barely audible.

“What?” She looked up at him tiredly.

“You say it to him, whenever he asks.’ Severina knew what he was referring to but she didn’t know how to muster it at the moment. ‘ _She_ says it. He hates when she says it. It disgusts us. She doesn’t mean it, like you do. I can tell.”

“He told her his name?” Severina asked, not really wanting to know but needing to.

“No. No he hasn’t.” He paused staring at her, waiting. As the moments passed his brow furrowed and he started to look frustrated, angry, annoyed.

“How old are you?” Severina asked him.

His chin rose, “I would’ve been seventeen in a few months.”

_Oh gods, he tore his soul at sixteen? How in the world had he come to that at sixteen?_

She swallowed down her anguish and stepped toward him. He tensed and looked at her warily. She continued until they were nearly chest to chest. He looked the same, of course, just younger. He was taller than she was but shorter than she was used to. There was something in him, though- it wasn’t innocence, certainly not, but there was a vulnerability he just couldn’t hide.

He asked again, “Will you say it, to me?” He flexed his jaw and looked ready for rejection.

She looked at him and her heart clenched and she thought, she might,

“I love you.”

His face and body softened and she stepped a little closer,

“I love you.”

She tentatively wrapped her arms around his shoulders, his hands still clasped tensely behind him. She leaned in and rested her cheek against his. She spoke gently into his ear,

“I love you, Tom.”

She held him. He didn’t move. She brought her hand to the back of his neck and stroked the soft hairs there. His head began to fall, slowly, inching its way to her shoulder and resting there. His arms released and dropped to his sides before he raised them to her back, just resting his palms slightly. His forehead pressed more firmly into her shoulder before his breath grew heavy and his hands wrapped around her ribs and pulled her closer.

They remained like that for days, maybe, before he lowered his arms and pulled hers away from him. He turned without letting her see his face. He kept his back to her, his arms behind him, one had wrapped around his wrist. She stared at his unmoving form for… she couldn’t say how long. It could have been five minutes, it could’ve been a century.

Finally, she decided to speak, “Are you the first horcrux?”

“You know that there is more than one.” He turned to look at her. His face closed off from all emotion.

She didn’t answer, only inclined her head a little and waited for an answer.

“No, I was the second.” He said.

“You are a quarter of his soul, then?” Severina asked, trying to work out a theory.

His eyes squinted and he looked down in thought, “I don’t know. I don’t know if the soul divides evenly like that. I suppose I could be any sort of percentage. It’s an interesting thought, though. If it does divide evenly, then yes I’d be a quarter of a soul. I had always intended to make six, to be seven parts. Seven is a very powerful number, as you know.” He smirked.

“Six…” She gasped. “That would make _him_ , sixty-fourths of a soul.”

“Theoretically. Like I said, there’s no way of knowing for sure how much of the soul is in each horcrux. Technically, he’s only created five, so’ he cleared his throat, ‘one thirty-second.”

“Oh, Tom…”

“Why are you crying? Shouldn’t you be happy? I’ll never die. If you loved me, you wouldn’t want me to die.”

“You aren’t alive either. You’ve trapped yourself in this prison.” She said and looked around into the darkness. “Did it hurt?”

He didn’t look at her, only stared off into nothing. She dared approach him and cup his cheeks. Slowly, he met her eyes, and he said,

“I’m glad you’re here. Aren’t you? You were screaming before. You sounded like you were in pain. I saved you. I brought you to me, where you belong.” He reached up and touched the vial hung around his neck.

Tom leaned in and kissed her. It was swift and needy, but she didn’t respond and he pulled away, frustrated. “I’m closer to your age here, than out there. I’ve done all sorts of things wizards decades older than I, wouldn’t even dream of…”

She stopped him with a peck on the lips, “Oh, Tom, I love you. It isn’t your age…”

He captured her lips again. He kissed her like he could consume her heart through her mouth. His tongue pressed through her lips and teeth, tasting her tongue. His hands gripped so tightly that it really should’ve been painful, but she supposed she wasn’t really in a body that could feel physical pain. Maybe, she wasn’t really feeling him; only remembering, how he felt, how he tasted, how he sounded.

His hand reached up to palm her breast and she moaned. His knees buckled a little, separating their mouths long enough for him to groan out, “Yes. Fuck, yes, let me hear you.”

He latched onto her neck, his hands groping her body everywhere. He ground his pelvis against hers, pressing his hard-on into her just right.

“Tom…” She groaned as she fisted his hair.

He started lowering her to the floor, his hand supporting her back while the other spread her knees on either side of his waist. She didn’t feel the ground beneath her but she knew she was lying. She realized she was naked and so was he.

She stopped to ask, “How? We don’t have magic.”

“We don’t have bodies either,” he arched his eyebrow and she laughed. She laughed so hard, she hadn’t laughed like that in a long time and he laughed with her, letting his head fall against her collar bone. His shoulders shook and her chest stuttered with laughter.

The laughter died away into sighs and moans. The sound of his lips against her skin, kissing her collar bone first, then to her shoulder and back up her neck. They were soft almost tentative kisses, exploring. He took his time. She supposed they had plenty.

He was gentle but not graceful, not like he would be, or would’ve been… It was all rather confusing. When he entered her, he stilled immediately, the veins in his forehead and neck protruding and his eyes closed tight. Once he regained some control, he looked down at her, she could not say what he saw but his expression was akin to wonder. He looked into her eyes, pleading,

“Say it.”

“I love you, Tom.” Her voice shook with emotion- all the desperation she suffered alone in the dark, melted away into profound relief. 

His breathing sped and he rocked into her reflexively. Severina felt a need to touch and keep touching him. She kissed his face, his cheeks, his lips, his brow and his eye lids.

Severina unconsciously understood the significance of this moment- their souls touched each other and consummated something so profound; how could anyone, from anytime or place, possibly understand what they now experienced? 

Tom’s pace was slow and unsteady and perfect. He bent his head to worship her breasts and she gasped and moaned, her eyes fluttering closed as her neck arched back and her chest pressed forward. Her hands splayed across his skin- up his arms, around his shoulder blades and down his back. She felt the muscles in his back flex with his movements and she continued down, over the curve of his buttocks. He gripped her hips and she thought she heard her name on his lips.

She couldn’t recall if he had ever taken her so frantically before. There was a wildness and desperation in their coupling. It seemed to go on forever and she wondered if they could- if they could spend eternity like this. Their souls frantically seeking the other, desperately trying to bind together, never wishing or needing to separate.

“Severina…’ he whimpered, ‘come for me…please… please come for me.”

Gods… How could her heart be breaking and filling all at once? She shifted her hips so he hit that spot that made her see stars and lose all thought but the building heat inside of her. She cried out his name as her walls spasmed around him. He followed her in that same instant and why not? Here they could; here they could be perfectly in tune; here they could be whatever they wanted- together.

They laid together timelessly, bare to each other. Who else would see? and what did they have to hide from one another? They were souls together. Her head rested on his chest. He had less hair here than she remembered.

“Do know how long it's been?” She asked him. He was playing with her hair, burying his nose in it. 

“Since when?” He spoke into the top of her head, she thought she felt the warmth of his breath, but it was hard to tell if she was really feeling anything- besides the love and peace she felt, being so close to his soul. Still, there was uneasiness, an itch in the back of her mind that never left her. Like, something wasn’t quite right- something was missing.

“Since I fell asleep?” She asked.

“I don’t know exactly… but around 2 months maybe more. Probably closer to three. He’s supposed to visit your body at three months.”

“He doesn’t know, I’m here with you?” Severina asked.

His arms tightened around her, holding the length of her to the length of him,

“I don’t know. I doubt it.”

“You said you can sense him. His thoughts and feelings… Can he feel ours?”

“No.”

“Could you try? Could you send him a message?”

He sat up and glared at her, “Why? You want to leave don’t you? Why? You can stay here with me, forever.”

She smiled softly and kissed him, “I’m not going to leave you. I was just curious.”

He swallowed and rested his forehead against hers. “Yeah… I can sort of, but it's more like I can send him dreams. I don’t know that they will seem any different from any other dream.” He shrugged.

“What dreams do you send him?”

Tom shrugged and sighed, “Its been a while. Just reminders of our plans, I guess. Taking over the world, starting with Hogwarts and Britain…”

_Oh, Merlin, the greatest Dark Wizard in almost a century and he’s being lead by his teenaged ambitions._

Severina has an idea but wasn’t sure what effect it might have. She spoke carefully,

“Can I show you something? I had a vision, before you pulled me over to you.”

“When you were screaming?” His brow furrowed.

“No. No, before that. It was nice… at least I thought so, I just wonder if you’d think so too.”

“A vision? Really?’ His eyes brightened with intrigue and delight, ‘Okay. Yes, I’d like to see your vision.”

Severina smiled brightly and kissed him, letting their foreheads rest together,

“I love you, so much, Tom.”

Severina focused on the dream and when they opened their eyes, they were clothed and standing in Diagon Ally, just as she had before, but this time, she reached over and laced her fingers through Tom’s. This time she held a piece of Voldemort’s soul and wanted to show him another alternative for ambition, for happiness, and for love.

Just when Severina was about to follow Lily, Tom tugged her hand and pointed at Mr. Riddle.

“Is that me?” He asked.

“Yes it is, I didn’t see you before. I had found myself instead.” She said.

“I’m old… How old am I?”

“In your fifties? I think.”

“And how old are you?”

“I’m twenty… but here I’m sixteen almost seventeen.”

“That’s at least a thirty year difference… Is it creepy for you?” He asked.

“Not really. Is it for you?”

"A bit..." 

Severina huffed, “You’re a horcrux- some might call you creepy.” 

“Do you?” He asked, a little hurt. 

“I love you.” She said matter-of-factly.

“That’s not really an answer.”

“I love you no matter what. I’ve seen you do horrible things- great but horrible. I love you anyway. Always, Tom.”

She pecked his lips and they followed Mr. Riddle into a much more upscale café than the one dream-Severina met her friends. Mr. Riddle took a seat at a table for two and ordered a tea service. He wasn’t waiting long before Orion Black approached him.

“Tom! I hope I haven’t kept you waiting long.” Orion smiled wide, looking so much like an older Sirius with that smile, that Severina was momentarily struck by the similarity.

They half-hugged as they shook hands warmly wearing genuine smiles. Tom beside her squeezed her fingers. She looked over and Tom seemed entranced by the two of them being so friendly.

Mr. Riddle answered his friend, “Not at all, Orion, I was glad for a moment to myself, honestly.”

“Oh? Should I leave?” Orion chuckled.

“Not at all old friend, I only meant… The Profit is hounding me about running for Minister of Magic and each time I’m in Britain, it seems that I’m set up with another eligible witch. Who, I might add, just keep getting younger.”

“You make it sound like a bad thing.”

“It absolutely is.”

“So, who was she?”

“Leroy’s niece. She tried to slip me a love potion half-way through dinner.”

Orion Black laughed so hard that the whole of the café turned to look at him. Mr. Riddle just shook his head and with a smirk, calmly sipped his tea. Once, Orion calmed down he sighed,

“Walburga delayed me coming here, she impressed upon me that our nieces are yet unmarried. Very beautiful young ladies, all.”

Mr. Riddle snorted, “Are they at least out of Hogwarts?”

“Two of them… The youngest will be graduating after this school year.”

Mr. Riddle shook his head, "I don't know that I'll marry at all."

“Won’t do you any favors politically,” Orion said.

“I know, but I don’t just want a political marriage. These witches, all of them, even since school, none of them really want me. I can’t explain it. It’s just something in their eyes. It's only getting worse. These witches want Tom Riddle, the curse breaker or Tom Riddle the politician, the next Minister of Magic, the philanthropist, the heir of Slytherin. They don't want _me._ ’

“I want someone whose greatest ambition is more than to marry well. I want someone with her own mind. Someone I can talk with, make plans for the future with. Someone who doesn’t just laugh politely at my jokes but actually gets them. It’d be really nice if she made me laugh too. Someone to grow with you know? Not just an ornament on my arm or someone to smile prettily for the cameras.”

Orion considered his friend a moment before smirking, “I didn’t realize you were such a romantic.”

“It isn’t really that,' Riddle sighed, 'I don’t know that I need some great romance. I just want someone I can trust. I wouldn’t say no to love, though.' He looked up at his friend seriously, 'If you had a choice, rather than being married off, would you have picked Walburga for yourself?' He ran a hand down his face, 'Sorry, I crossed a line.”

“No, it’s okay.' Orion sighed, 'Walburga and I have had our problems, especially at the beginning but we are working on it.”

“I know. You’re a better man than I. I don’t want to _work_ on my marriage, I have enough work as it is.” A clock chimed and Mr. Riddle glance at it, “Speaking of which, I have a meeting with one of my scholarship students. That’s another thing to add to the list, someone who isn’t always looking for what more I can give them. It’d be nice to have a witch who gave as good as she got.” He chuckled and winked at Orion.

They rose together and embraced once more.

“I hope you find her, Tom. You deserved to be happy, to have a family. No matter how crazy Walburga makes me, I wouldn’t have my boys without her. Family can be a wonderful thing.” Orion squeezed his shoulder. The scene dissolved before Severina and the now-pale younger Tom Riddle who held her hand.

They reappeared in the same scene as Severina witnessed before, but to see it from Mr. Riddle’s perspective; especially so soon after his conversation with Orion, it was easy to see how this Severina made such an impact in their first meeting. Her eyes were respectful and friendly but she blushed enough to show she wasn’t immune. She didn’t ask for more money or help of any kind, only to thank him genuinely for his support and to give back what she could. She talked of her ambitions and assured him that she wouldn’t lie to him.

As the couple laughed over the irony of the love potion antidote, Severina looked over to her Tom and he seemed thoughtful. His jaw was tensed and his brow deeply creased. She brushed her thumb over his knuckled and he tightened his hold on her hand.

The scene faded away…

Tom’s head snapped to her, “Why did you show me this?” He asked sharply.

Severina opened her mouth to speak but she heard her voice singing softly, and she turned to a new scene- one not from her own vision. The other Severina was holding a small bundle, a babe with wispy black hair that peaked out the sides of a little blue cap. She couldn’t breath.

_Maybe I’m right,  
Maybe I’m wrong,  
Loving you dear like I do,  
If that’s a crime than I’m guilty,  
Guilty of loving you_

The elder Tom Riddle leaned in the doorway of a little nursery watching his wife sing their son to sleep. His wife looked up at him and smiled.

“So, what think you Mr. Minister of Magic, of your little family?”

He pushed himself off the doorway and wrapped an arm around his wife, looking down at their son, gently brushing his tiny cheek with his thumb.

“Perfect.” He answered.

She leaned her head on against him.

“Are you happy, Tom?”

“Oh, Severina, if you only knew,’ He kissed the top of her head, ‘how, incandescently happy you’ve made me.”

“I think I do.’ She looked up at him, ‘I feel the same.”

They kissed and faded away, leaving Tom and Severina in the darkness again. Tom ripped his hand from hers and fisted his hair. He spun to face her, but kept his distance.

“Why did you show me that?” He yelled and accused, “That’s what you want? A happy little family? You want to grow old together? He’ll die before she does, she’ll have to watch him _die_ ; She won’t be so happy then! A fucking ministry position? That’s it? When I can be so much _more_? The whole world could be ours, Severina. We could be gods!”

“What, here? Stuck in a ring? While you trust your dreams and ambitions to one thirty-second, _fraction_ of your soul?”

Tom collapsed to his knees and screamed. Severina watched him expel his frustrations- she felt his desperation and turmoil vibrate through her whole being. Once he’d stopped screaming she said,

“We don’t have to have that… that was just one possibility, one alternative. That vision wasn’t the point. The point was seeing us whole and healthy and happy and together.” She begged him to understand.

He shook his head, “Its too late. I can’t give you that. You don’t understand… You and I will never… We’re stuck here Severina, forever.’ He looked up at her, his eyes were red-rimmed and his hair a mess, ‘At least I have you now. At least we are together.”

“Is there no way to restore your soul?” She asked desperately.

He shook his head, “Not one I’d survive.”


	18. Intention

Voldemort dismissed the Death Eater meeting. The three month truce was coming to an end. He expected Dumbledore was raising a resistance, so likewise he fortified his positions.

Hogwarts was to resume soon. He assigned Nott as Headmaster, the Malfoys ran the Ministry and St. Mungo’s ran as usual, but with 24-7 guards on patrol rotations. There was more but… those had been Severina’s suggestions. It was seamless and smooth. There was grumbling among some of the public, but if they were pureblood and neutral to light or dark magic, they assimilated rather well.

The meeting room had cleared of all but one. Bellatrix, walked toward him with a sway in her hips. She sat herself on the table and spread her legs inviting him to fuck her, there, on the table. He didn’t even push away the comparison to Severina. Severina would never act like such a slut. Severina was never easy- some how, without trying, without intention, without realizing, she always had him chasing her. She was as subtle as a serpent. Her seduction of him so natural, she hardly need try and he would be burning with need.

Bella, however…He’d used her to burn off some steam, to see if he could replace Severina somehow. The bottom line was- he used her and he felt nothing. If anything it made these last three months more agonizing. He wondered if he was punishing himself- for not being able to wake her.

“You’re dismissed, Lady Lestrange.” He said, increasingly annoyed at her continued existence.

“You’re not sleeping. I can tell. Let me help wear you out.” She spread her legs further and licked her lips sensuously. Then, she started to undo her dress.

He snapped, low and dangerous, “I said, get the fuck out. Now.”

She didn’t understand a god-damned thing about him not sleeping. Severina’s smell had gone. Not to mention, the damn dreams. He spun the ring on his finger. He dreamed of her every night- every fucking night. Recently, though, they’d gotten worse. They were more bazar and more clear than any normal dream.

He’d seen the life he could have lived if he had lived life differently, if he hadn’t spilt his soul- a good man; not necessarily light, not completely dark either. Most of the dream sickened him- more like nightmares they were, but the one thing he clung to desperately when he woke was Severina. In his dreams she was happy, healthy and whole. She was beautiful, successful, confident and she loved him. She loved him freely and completely without fear or reservations. In his dreams, she opened her heart and soul to him willingly, pouring all her love and hope into him.

Voldemort was lost in thought and didn’t notice that Bellatrix had started to touch his chest,

“My Lord, I love you.” She whispered seductively.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. Salazar, he was getting a headache. He dropped his hand and leveled his eyes to hers.

“Go back to your husband Mrs. Lestrange. I’m done with you.”

Her nostrils flared and her eyes held fire, “Because of that filthy half-blood traitor?”

His hand shot to her throat and squeezed, “Bella, my dear, I don’t have to explain myself to you. It’s enough that I’ve grown bored of you. Get. Out.” He threw her to the side and she stumbled a little towards the door, before huffing and screeching her frustration.

One more week. Then he would see her- see Severina pale and cold like a corpse. He’d poured through tomes and scrolls- parchment after parchment, looking for someway to wake her. Dumbledore had said…

Voldemort had found something, early on- a potion, _The Soul’s Desire_. The damn thing haunted him. It wasn’t at all what he was looking for and he tried to dismiss it, but it pricked at his mind. Like a pain behind his eyes, it pierced his thoughts. The potion wouldn’t wake her. It wasn’t a useful potion at all. It was intended as a party trick, he was sure, like a liquid form Mirror of Erised- it gave the drinker insight to their soul, specifically what their soul desired. Lord Voldemort knew his soul's desire- his ambition, power, control, knowledge. He didn't need to see Severina absent from that. 

He hadn’t called in Sirius Black since her abduction. What was the point? To see her? To look into the young wizard’s mind and see Severina lifeless or worse suffering? He couldn’t help her. He couldn’t even reach her until the three months passed. He’d tried. Dumbledore warded her well. Nagini never returned- either she found Severina and was watching over her or she was still looking. Voldemort commanded her to find Severina- even if it took the damn snake a life time, she’d be forced to find her. Though, he hadn’t commanded her to return. Nagini may as well have found Severina’s location and then slithered off. That snake was more trouble than she was worth.

So was Severina.

The Dark Lord summoned his spy and waited. His hand absently finding the pocket in his robes. His fingers rubbed idly at the wearing edges of Severina’s photograph. It didn’t matter how much he looked at it. How he’d already memorized every detail. How he could never leave it behind in their room. He tried. He set it on the table, on the desk and tried to walk away, but he always went back for it and shoved it into his pocket.

It didn’t change that she wasn’t there. It didn’t change that the first thing he saw in the morning was an empty bed.

So lost in thought, he didn’t hear Sirius Black arrive. He was simply there, kneeling and waiting.

“Rise," the Dark Lord commanded.

Sirius stood, stone faced and didn’t speak a word. He had changed- that was for sure. This Sirius Black was a far cry from the one who followed Severina around like a damned puppy dog at New Years. Voldemort was surprised he hadn’t killed the younger wizard when he’d found him alone with her. The Dark Lord had hated him. Hated that he reminded him of a younger Tom Riddle. Handsome, charming, charismatic, but unlike Tom Riddle, Sirius Black was a pureblood heir to a well respected house. He had hated him for that. 

“How is she?” The Dark Lord asked.

“Asleep, my Lord,” answered Black.

Voldemort back handed him, his face snapped to the side with a _smack_. The Dark Lord took a deep breath through the nose, and calmly,

“I’ll ask you again. How is Severina?”

Sirius stared at the ground, breathing heavily for a moment. When he composed himself,

“Maybe it would be better if I showed you.”

Sirius met the Dark Lord’s eyes and was surprised by the hesitation- like the Dark Lord didn’t really want to see. It was only a slight hesitation, however, before he felt the unpleasant presence of the Dark Lord in his mind.

Sirius Black stood in the doorway of a bedroom, looking in. Severina lay, corpse-like on the bed. Dumbledore had transfigured her robes into a nightgown and tucked her in. She was perfectly still, hardly even breathing.

Lily sat beside the bed, reading the Potions Journal aloud until she noticed Sirius standing in the doorway. She smiled ruefully up at him and set the journal aside and said,

“James says I’m being silly, that she probably can’t hear me anyway, but I just don’t know what else to do.” Her voice quivered and she looked over to her friend.

Sirius tried to comfort her, “It’s not. I’m sure she would appreciate it, if she were…”

Lily nodded and took Severina’s hand, brushing the back with her thumb.

“Any changes?” He asked.

“No. Not for more than a month. I was so relieved when the screaming stopped but… Oh gods Siri…” Lily started gasping and crying. “At least… at least I knew she was still in there. At least I could hear her voice. But now…” Lily shook her head.

Sirius approached the bed, he tentatively picked-up Severina’s other hand. It was cold, but limp- not stiff in his hold. He squeezed and gazed at her face. Her lips her white and she was still as death. He cast a diagnostic spell. All it showed was that she was sleeping deeply. She had a pulse. She was alive.

“Has Dumbledore been in to check her brain activity?” He asked, not looking away from Severina.

“Yesterday. We’ve been running tests. Her brain activity is rather high for someone to be only dreaming. But, she doesn’t respond to external stimulus.”

“What do you mean?”

“Like, with me reading to her or holding her hand or trying to talk to her, it doesn’t affect her brain activity. All that really tells us is she’s dreaming or thinking but not perceiving us- reality, her external world. It’s like she’s trapped in her own mind. Oh, Siri what if she never wakes up?”

Sirius looked back at Severina’s still face and the memory started to fade.

Voldemort felt numb throughout. His own mind racked with questions. Before he could leave Sirius’s mind, a flash of a memory surfaced. A memory that seemed to be trying to hide, but was linked to this memory of Severina.

Severina lay in bed, unmoving and unresponsive to the others in the room, talking over her. Tears were streaming down her cheeks while a young man with scars down his face dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief.

“She’s crying…' Sirius spoke in hushed disbelief, ‘She never cries.”

There were two other young men in the room as well. They all looked up at him strangely and all reacted to his statement differently. The one with scars, looked back at Severina lying in the bed and was somber and thoughtful. The shorter fat one, looked lost and kept shifting from foot to foot. The one with glasses, looked frustrated and annoyed and sucked in his cheeks and bit down, looked back at Severina and said,

“We called her Snivellin Slytherina for seven years.”

Sirius swallowed, shaking his head, his own eyes tearing up and he choked out, “But she never _cried_.”

This too was linked to another memory. Sirius Black was outside the room this time, pulling at his hair and hugging his head as he paced a hallway. Severina’s screams echoed off the walls and in his head. Then Lily’s frantic voice,

“Siri! Help! Help me, please!”

Sirius’s head sprung up and he sprinted to the room. There was blood smeared all over Severina’s nightgown and sheets. Severina was clawing at her left forearm and blood covered her fingers. Lily was trying to pull her arm away but she was struggling against Severina’s unconscious desperation.

“What happened?” He yelled but sprang to action, pulling her arms apart while Lily could retrieved her wand and petrify Severina. “She was trying to scratch off the Dark Mark?”

Lily nodded and started clean and mend the wounds and spat, “I hate him.”

“Who?” Sirius asked. His own mind conjuring two likely suspects- the Dark Lord or Dumbledore?

“You Know Who. She calls his name sometimes-‘Tom.’ She cries out for him. It sounds like she’s begging him to save her, but other times, it sounds like she’s begging him to stop.”

They both looked to Severina who started whimpering. Lily restrained Severina's arms to the bed and released her petrified stated.

“Tom’ Severina whimpered, ‘Tom, please.”

The next memory, Severina was alone when Sirius entered the room. He sat beside her on the bed. He picked up her hand and pressed his lips the the back of it. He lifted his knuckles to stroke her cheek. Deliberately, he leaned down over her, his lips only inches from hers.

“It may not love, but it could be, Severina- you and me. I could love you if you let me. If you’d just wake up.” Sirius said, his breath, the only warmth on her skin.

He sighed and closed his eyes, a single tear fell from his lashes and onto her cheek just below her eye; it fell to the side, leaving a wet streak on the side of her face as though it were her own tear she had shed. Sirius’s lips brushed hers and he pressed more firmly- her lips, soft but unresponsive. He raised his head and opened his eyes but nothing happened…

“Lily tried too.” Dumbledore’s voice came from the doorway.

“Do we not love her enough?” Sirius asked.

“I don’t know. I thought Lily’s should have work. That was the plan, but he bound her to his soul. I don’t think anyone else _can_ wake her.”

“Do you think she knew?”

“If she did, I don’t think it would have mattered. She would’ve still taken the potion.”

Sirius shook his head, “Why?”

Dumbledore explained, “Because she loves him. Because no matter how slim the chance, she wants to save him. Save him from himself. She’s giving him a choice, a reason to live with a whole soul.”

Voldemort felt nauseous and pulled out of Sirius’s mind. The young wizard stumbled and vomited on floor, clutching his temples. The Dark Lord vanished the vomit and hissed under his breath, “Get out.”

Sirius straightened with difficulty and labored breaths. His eyes held so much hate, his jaws clenched and his nostrils flared. He bowed mockingly before he left.

Voldemort made a mental note to _crucio_ him later, but then dismissed it as a waste of time. That boy had no survival instincts.

The Dark Lord made his way to his rooms. His hand buried in his pocket. He entered his study and stopped at the sight of Severina’s empty brewing station.

He pulled out the photograph and watched the young witch smile. He closed his eyes and recalled when she was his, all day and all night. They had days, a whole week sometimes, with just each other and Nagini for company. He could almost see her in his mind’s eye. She’d be brewing, focused and he, the Dark Lord would not even dare disturb her. He smiled at the memory. How testy she’d get if he interrupted her. 

_A strand of hair fell from its tie and hung in her eyes. She didn’t even seem to notice. He went over and brushed it behind her ear, but his fingers didn’t stop there- his fingertips continued down her neck._

_“I’m brewing.” She stated._

_“I can see that.”_

_“I’m at a crucial stage.” She emphasized_

_He leaned down and kissed her neck, “Why should I care?”_

_“You ordered me to brew this skele-gro. Now leave me be for a few more minutes while I finish my job, my Lord.”_

_“Or what, my little Potions Mistress? Or what?” He took her earlobe between his teeth and she hissed._

_“Or… or I’ll never forgive you.”_

_“Is that right?” He took her instruments from her hands and picked her up._

_She gasped in indignation. He carried her to his desk, and pushed aside the parchment and quills, knocking ink on the floor. He stripped her right then and there and fucked her- her naked ass on the desk, pale legs wrapped around his waist, her heels digging into the back of his thighs just below his buttocks. His pants only just pulled down enough to free himself, his belt buckle kept smacking against his thigh. She’d wrapped her arms about his neck and her bare breast scrapped against his shirt as he pounded into her. Her cheek pressed against his and her mouth grazed his ear as she made the most delicious sounds._

_They finished just as the cauldron smoked and sputtered behind them. Severina lazily swished her hand and vanished the potion. Sated, she sighed and leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder. His hands running up and down her back._

_“So, what’s the verdict?” He asked._

_“Hmm?”_

_“You said you would never forgive me.” He reminded her._

_She pulled back slowly, until she could see his face. She looked somber. Her lips pressed into a thin-lined attempt at a smile, “I think I’ll always forgive you.”_

_That had surprised him and he knew they weren’t talking about the potion, but he didn’t quite understand._

_“Why?” He asked._

_“Because, I love you.” She said simply with a sad smile before she kissed him softly._

Voldemort opened his eyes. He went to a pile of tomes, choosing a rather small booklet. He opened to an unmarked page, easily, as though he memorized the location of the content he was looking for. _The Soul’s Desire_ potion mocked him from the small the pages of the booklet as he took Severina’s place at her brewing station and began to brew. It didn’t take long. It really was just a simple party trick, but if all his knowledge of magic taught him one thing, it was that magic is all about _intent_.

And he knew what he intended.


	19. Remorse

The Dark Lord Voldemort lay atop his bed fully clothed. He held a potion bottle in one hand and a photograph in the other. He stared at the photo for a long time- his eyes not moving from it even as he brought the bottle to his lips and downed the entire potion. 

His eyelids grew heavy but he fought it; his hand which held the photo dropped but he fought it, until he couldn’t fight anymore and his eyes fell shut. His head fell deep into his pillow and his hand fell limp on his chest. The photograph loosened in his grasp, but remained nestled between his lax fingers. The black-haired girl in the photo wore second-hand Slytherin robes, her lank-greasy hair fell slightly into her face as she looked away self-consciously; she tucked the hair behind her ear and turned with a shy smile.

Voldemort felt like he was falling- falling into a pit of darkness. He landed without any physical jolt- only the receding vertigo told him he wasn’t falling anymore. He became conscious of the utter darkness that surrounded him. Despite this darkness, however, he saw clearly himself- six of him from the ages of sixteen to thirty stood on a circle in the darkness. 

The youngest to his left, held his old school-journal. The eldest, after himself, stood to his right and held Ravenclaw’s diadem- twirling it around in his fingers. Next to Diadem, stood himself with arms crossed and holding Hufflepuff’s cup. The next, wore the locket and beside Locket, stood himself at sixteen, wearing the Gaunt ring and holding hands with…

“Severina?” Voldemort gasped and strode towards her. 

She let go of the hand she held and just as he reached arms-length, her fist _crashed_ across his face. All six of him felt it and in unison their heads _snapped_ to the side and their hands flew up to their jaws. 

“Oww!”

“Fuck!” 

“Merlin’s balls, woman!”

“That fucking hurt!”

“What the hell was that for?!”

“Shit, Severina…” 

“You dare strike _me_?” snapped Cup and he moved toward her. Ring pulled Severina behind him and Voldemort stepped in front of the enraged version of himself- grabbed him by the shirt and held him at arms-length. Cup brushed him off and returned to his place. 

Voldemort turned to Severina with a questioning look. Ring stared him down hard, keeping Severina behind him. Voldemort looked between the two and narrowed his eyes. He was definitely not jealous of his sixteen year-old soul fragment, he reminded himself. 

So, he took a calming breath, “Severina, what was that for?” he asked.

Severina stepped out cooly and in an even-measured voice said simply, “Bellatrix.”

Voldemort hissed in through his teeth. Ring scratched the back of his neck. Journal looked confused. Locket said, “Oooh…” Cup rolled his eyes and Diadem snickered.

“About that…” Voldemort started.

She shook her head sadly not meeting his eyes, “It doesn’t matter. I understand. Still, going to be _pissed_ for a while.”

He took her hand and pulled her toward him. Ring didn’t want to let her go so, she held his hand while Voldemort wrapped her in his arms. 

“I’ve missed you.” He admitted aloud. 

He heard his own voice coming from somewhere behind him, “Do you believe this shit?”

Voldemort ignored it, leaned in and kissed her. Severina kissed him back and he knew she still loved him- she poured her heart and soul into his lips. Not one damn word was said by any and when she broke their kiss and said, “I love you, Tom,” they all felt it. 

“Severina,’ he brushed his hand through her hair, ‘I might not survive true remorse and I don’t know what will happen to you if I don’t.”

“My love, you are the strongest and most powerful wizard of our time. If you could survive this…’ She looked at each of them. Diadem just blinked. Cup stared, trying to figure her out. The corner of Locket's mouth twitched. Journal looked bewildered- his fingers reaching up to touch his lips. Ring kissed the back of her hand and Voldemort looked down at her tiredly. ’You have a chance. As for me, I'll be with you,” said Severina

“Are you sure? You may not love me after. You may never forgive me.”

“I’ve already told you- always.” 

She bent his head down and kissed his brow. The darkness around them shifted and changed. Four pieces of his soul disappeared and only Ring, Severina and Voldemort remained. 

Ring let go of Severina’s hand and turned toward a large house. Severina recognized it as Gaunt Manor but the placard on the gate read, “ _Riddle_ Manor.”

Ring spoke, “I had found my father and my grandparents- muggles. I’d come here with my uncle’s wand and his ring. The way they looked at me… They hated me and they feared me- that was alright, I hated them too and I had nothing to fear.”

Sixteen year-old Tom Riddle opened the gates to his father’s house; Severina and Voldemort followed. They watched as Tom’s grandmother cowered and how his grandfather screamed at him to leave; how Tom’s father looked at him with horror and disgust. Tom raised his uncle’s wand, pointing it at his father’s chest and with all the hate he could muster, he cast _Avada Kedavra_ , but his father had grabbed his wrist to wrest the wand away. The spell hit his grandfather instead. His grandmother wailed and fell to her knees beside her dead husband. Both Tom and his father froze, but Tom recovered first and pushed his father away, kicking him in the chest and causing him to fall. Again, he cast and again his uncle’s wand emitted a green streak of magic, striking his father in the chest. Life left him immediately. Tom's grandmother wailed and cried and she looked at Tom with pleading eyes that desperately asked, “Why?”

Young Tom wobbled a bit on his feet. She still wept and sobbed and Tom raised his wand, but his hand shook. Frustrated he steadied his hand, but only cast a _silencio_. She was terrified and she clawed at her throat- wondering were the sound had gone. Tom closed his eyes and breathed, his wand pointing at his grandmother and for a third time cast _Avada Kedavra_.

Voldemort watched all this, unmoved. Then, the young Tom Riddle turned to Severina, 

“I planned it all. I knew when their servants were out. I knew how much time I had. I knew what room he would be in. It was all planned out so perfectly. All I had to do was... do it. My grandparents were supposed to have been on a walk. I hadn’t meant for them to be here.” 

Severina stepped up to Ring and slipped her fingers through his. 

“I am sorry that I killed them. They weren’t supposed to be here.” His head shaking side to side.

He grunted and he clutched at his chest. Severina held his shoulders, keeping him upright the best she could.

“And your father?” She prompted.

He shook his head emphatically. His voice came deep from his chest, “No you don’t understand. I hate him more than anyone- more than anything in this world. I have to see his face every fucking time I look in a mirror. He’s the reason I had to grow up in that god-forsaken muggle-orphanage. Why my magical family wouldn’t have anything to do with me. He is _everything_ I hate…”

“About yourself?” She asked, her heart breaking for him.

He tensed and glared at her, his nostrils flared, “What did you say to me?”

“Tom, you hate him because he represented everything that you hate about yourself. I don’t hate you. I accept you just the way you are. I love you. You don’t have to hate yourself anymore and you don’t have to hate him anymore either. Your father was used and raped by your mother. Can you imagine waking up and finding yourself married to someone who had been slipping you love potions? And your mother, how desperate must her life had been to resort to such measures? Pity them, Tom, but don’t hate them and don’t hate yourself because of them.”

Ring doubled over, gasping and choking on air. His breath labored as he tried to straighten himself. Voldemort, who had remained stoic and silent, walked toward him and right into him- almost through him. The two became one- molding together; their faces twisted in pain and a tormented cry tore from their throats. No, _his_ throat for there only stood one- Tom Marvolo Riddle, looking years younger and older all at once. He doubled over again as if to vomit and… cried. He cried so hard, he couldn’t breathe- his chest heaved, his throat dried and his anguished sounds cracked. 

Severina dropped down to him and gathered him into her arms and held him through it all. He looked up at her with such desperation, choking out his words,

“I…I’m… sorry. Oh, god… it hurts…” 

Severina kissed his face and pulled him to her breast and rocked him. “I know, my love, remorse hurts. Caring guilt is hard; forgiving yourself, even harder. I’m here. I’ll be right here to help bare it all.”

The scene melted away and they found themselves in a girls bathroom at Hogwarts. Severina could hear familiar crying coming from one of the stalls. Tom grunted and got to his knees, wrapping an arm around Severina’s shoulders for support. 

Journal was there standing by a faucet and hissing. The sinks opened up and a snake, larger- much larger than Nagini, emerged from the pipes. A basilisk. The girl's crying stopped and the stall door opened. Severina felt that time had slowed. Moaning Myrtle’s flushed peach-skin and large brown eyes encased in thick-framed glasses emerged from the opened door. Her annoyed and angry expression turned to shock as she looked straight into the eyes of the basilisk. Her eyes widened and froze; her body fell limp and slumped backward onto the toilet. Journal hissed again and the basilisk slithered away. Myrtle’s ghost floated up from her body. The ghost-girl looked down at her corpse and then at her now, corporal form. She wailed and cried but only for a moment before her face turned spiteful and said, 

“Well now… I’ll just haunt Olive Hornby and then she’ll be sorry for teasing me about my glasses,” and she flew through the walls. 

Severina turned to Tom, “Moaning Myrtle? Really?”

He only sighed as they got themselves to their feet. Journal crossed his arms and…well… pouted.

“She was always crying about something. I did everyone a favor.” Journal said, petulantly. 

Severina replied, “And now she’s a ghost, eternally crying about something.’ Severina sighed and looked at Myrtle’s body, 'She was a friendless little girl who was miserable in a place she had hoped to be happy,” she turned her eyes to Journal.

Journal sulked.

Tom’s voice spoke up, his eyes on the slumped, lifeless body of Myrtle Warren. “If I had not killed her. If I had not opened the Chamber of Secrets, I may not have had to go back to the orphanage that summer. Headmaster Dippet said he could’ve made arrangements for me to stay at Hogwarts, if it hadn’t been for this. Even framing Hagrid hadn’t helped.”

“Hagrid?” Severina asked.

Tom continued, “I didn’t really think anyone would believe that Hagrid was responsible. I underestimated how much they all wanted someone to blame- to take the fall. They didn’t even investigate. They took my word for it. Hagrid _had_ been secretly raising an Acromantula and that was enough for them. He was expelled for it.”

Journal spoke, “What does it matter? It’s done and we got away with it. It just proves that no one cares about anyone but themselves . Why should I care? No one’s ever cared about me. Not really.”

Tom turned to Severina; Journal looked to his feet. Severina took Journal’s face into her hands and kissed his forehead. 

“I do.” She told him.

He shook his head, but looked up at her with a question, “Why?”

“Because you’re mine and I’m yours,” she answered.

Journal just looked at her thoughtfully and sighed, “Her parents were so sad. Her father wept like a baby. Her mother cried too, but for some reason, his reaction, haunted me for days and days. He was absolutely broken.’ Journal sucked in a breathless gasp, ‘I’m sorry…’ again his gasp was breathless, ‘I’m sorry I killed her. I’m sorry.”

Tom came to his side and stepped into him. As the melded, he collapsed into Severina and she caught him, stumbling back a little. With much effort, Tom asked, “Why did we go out of order? Shouldn’t this one have been first?”

“Maybe we are to do the hardest ones first? Or the most personal… It’s your soul, what do you think?”

He coughed, and rasped, “That sounds about right.”

“Then where to next?” Severina asked unnecessarily as the room changed around them. 

“Hepzibah Smith. We’re probably in order now.”

Severina and Tom watched as Cup slipped the old witch a poison in her teacup. Her death wasn’t terribly gruesome, but the rapidity and ease in which her life left her jarred and disturbed the scene. She was chatting happily, nibbling on a chocolate biscuit. Cup genially poured her tea and handed her, her death. She drank it willingly with a charmed smiled that lifted her rounded rosy-cheeks and crinkled the corners of her green eyes. As soon as the liquid touched her tongue, she breathed in a gentle breath she’d never release; her body relaxed; her eyes dimmed and went lifeless. Cup took her tea and saucer deftly and calmly before it could spill and set it next to the biscuits. Cup, then, took Slytherin’s locket and Hufflepuff’s cup from their displays on the table. Cup turned in his seat to look at them, annoyed he said, “I hated being trapped in this,’ He waved the cup at them, shook his head and under his breath muttered, “Hufflepuff’ like it were a curse. 

Cup rose and stood in front of Severina, but didn’t speak.

“Well…’ Severina started, ‘anything you want to say about this?” Gesturing to the dead woman.

Cup sighed exasperated, “She was attracted to me and it made me uncomfortable. So, no, I don’t feel bad about killing her, whatsoever. I’m just glad she showed me the locket and the cup before she tried to _seduce_ me,” he shuddered. 

Severina pinched the bridge of her nose. 

Cup continued, “I framed her house-elf. Just like with Hagrid…’ he started shaking his head in disbelief, ‘I really didn’t think it would work. How could a house-elf kill her Mistress? I’ve seen house-elves treated like dirt beneath their master’s feet and they still serve them like their very existence depends on their faithful service- no matter deserving or undeserving. I even disappeared. People knew I had gone to visit her… I never went by Tom Riddle after this, thinking they must know it was me. How can they all be so blind, so stupid? If people used their brains every once-in a while, I’d never have gained the power I did.”

Severina suddenly realized something- a pattern. Tom had a strange and uncanny ability to persuade people- to draw them in. She always thought it was a natural charisma, the same as Sirius. But if it wasn’t? What if it was as unnatural as the circumstances around his birth? He was conceived while his father, a muggle man, was under the influence of a magical love potion. What if that love potion simply passed through to very cells that formed Tom? What if everyone he’s ever come in contact with him, always fell in love with him? Well, not love- love potions can not replicate love, only infatuation, obsession even. What if it wasn’t that he was incapable of truly loving but of _being_ truly loved? 

Did she truly love him? Her other self, that dream-Severina said, love was a choice; that she had chosen Tom over any other. Had _she truly_ chosen him? How could she know for sure?

Cup continued, “Anyway, I framed her house-elf and I am sorry about that.’ He started a rueful laugh but he jerked forward with a grunt. ‘I suppose… I suppose she had really only been a lonely old lady with too much wealth and time. She just wanted to share something she treasured with someone.” Cup looked up at Severina, meaningfully. 

Tom stepped around and into him, absorbing this soul as well. Severina caught him as he fell. As she had done each time; it was why she was here- to keep catching him, to hold him together as he cried in pain and sorrow. She let him feel his remorse while she tried adding his soul. 1/32 and 1/4 and 1/2 and 1/8… he should have just above 90%. He's mostly whole now, only two more. 

Tom’s voice rasped, “That’s why I liked you, you know. You use your mind. You’re not like everybody else.’ He stared at her with blood-shot eyes and tear-streaked cheeks, ‘I looked into your mind. Do you remember? You gave me a door; you gave me a choice. You offered me yourself- just you. You were my choice, Severina; I chose _you_.” 

Severina’s heart shattered; she hugged him desperately to her and hoped to every deity there was, that she truly loved him. She believed she did and if love was a choice. She’d choose to love him.

Locket appeared before them in a darkened ally, surrounded by trash and it’s putrid scent mixed with piss and vomit. A drunken homeless man sat propped against the bricked wall. He threw his emptied liquor bottle away from him. Tom approached, wearing a hooded cloak; he looked down at the tramp and raised his wand. Death came quick, merciless and with a green flash. Locket lowered his hood, looked at Severina and shrugged, 

“How am I supposed to be _remorseful_ for this? Probably did him a favor. He would’ve died come winter. The first dead body I ever saw was a froze tramp in an ally. Why should I care about his life? He barely cared about his own. No one else cared. People walk passed everyday. You think anyone noticed when he was gone? Do you think anyone thought to themselves, “Thank goodness I don’t have to pass that drunken beggar today?” I wonder how many days it took for them to realize why he wasn’t begging on the street anymore. Did anyone miss him? Did they think of him at all? Did he simply fade from their minds?”

Tom spoked, “Perhaps we are going about this wrong.’ Tom grunted as he gathered his strength, ‘Take his place,” he ordered Locket.

Locket looked at him with a hint of fear in his eyes. He went slowly over to the tramp’s body and sat in his place. Locket became the homeless man and he was alive again. Tom shifted into his monstrous form and pointed his wand at him. 

Locket’s eyes widen and he sucked in a breath that did not release for a long time and when it did it came out almost like a hiccup. The fear turned to sorrow and he grabbed his knees and pulled himself into a ball, as he began to understand what it was like to face death. 

Tom shifted back into himself and raked a hand through his hair. His face was pale, lips almost silvery-grey, his eyes were bloodshot- encircled by purpling eye sockets. Yet, he seemed to keep getting younger. He went to Locket and lowered himself to mold them into each other. Now there was only one man in that ally, curled in a ball and sobbing. Severina sat next to him and curled herself around him, brushing her fingers through his hair and stroking his back. 

She barely noticed the change of scenery, her attention on the man in her arms. She glanced up and saw Diadem looking down at them both.

He spoke, “I’m the last one then? You both look like you’ve just taken a stroll through hell.' He chewed the inside of his cheeks and continued with a sigh, 'Once the soul is whole, there's no going back.’ He shook his head, ‘Are you sure you want to do this?” He asked Tom.

Tom wobbled to his hands and knees. His head fell forward and his arms shook against his weight. Severina took his arm and wrapped it around her shoulders, letting him lean completely on her. Severina peered up at Diadem. 

Diadem looked at her and said, “I hope you’re worth this.” 

Severina’s eyes fell. She wasn’t worth anything. That was the very first thing she ever told him. _I’m nothing… worthless._

Tom’s voice forced a cracked and rasped, “She is.”

Severina let her tears fall as she turned her head to kiss temple and rest her forehead against the side of his head, her voice quivered, “I love you, Tom.”

Diadem turned to a little shack of a house that sat just outside an impoverished village in Albania.

“She’s just some Albanian peasant girl. I’d been looking for Ravenclaw’s diadem for months and I finally found it, but I nearly starved. She found me and helped me. Probably gave me the last of her milk and bread. She asked if there was anything else she could do for me.” 

The trio entered the cottage and saw the doe-eyed, half-starved peasant girl, her hair covered in a modest scarf. She smiled sweetly at Diadem. 

“I told her, ‘As a matter-of-fact there is.’” 

Diadem raised his wand and cast _Avada Kedavra_. Her face frozen in terror and confusion as her body went limp and began to fall. She didn’t even hit the floor before Diadem was falling too. His knees _crashed _on the ground, her body landed with a soft _thud_ and he whimpered. __

Tom’s weakened voice rasped in her ear, “Severina, help me, I can’t move.”

They stumbled together toward Diadem. Severina nearly dragged him with all her strength. They fell ungracefully to their knees- Tom, atop Diadem, absorbing him immediately. Tom didn’t cry out like he had each time before. He made no sound at all. He simply went limp, his dead-weight rolled off Severina's shoulder and he landed on his back in front of her. 

Severina panted, staring down in shock at the lifeless, but whole-souled Tom Riddle. Everything went dark. All around her was darkness and the only thing she could see clearly was Tom’s lifeless body laid-out in front of her. 

She heard a distant voice; she looked up and saw the outline of door- light spilling through the cracks. It was Lily’s voice, she was saying her name- talking to her even though she wasn’t answering. 

Severina looked back at Tom and she wept. She cupped his face and stroked his cheeks with her thumbs. He was cold and he wasn’t breathing. She leaned down and kissed his forehead, her tears landing on his face. She thought of the boy he had been. She thought of the man he should have been; about the future they could have had and she remembered how she loved him. 

He was intelligent, powerful, resourceful but more than any of that, he was thoughtful, endearing, and funny- he had made her laugh and feel special in a way no one else in all her life ever had. He had seen her and saw something worth _choosing_. 

She could see her choice- her door. Severina knew that she could leave him here, walk through that door, be free of him and someone else could wake her. This was her choice- the moment she could chose to truly love him. Her soul and his, because that’s all they were, here in this darkness- just two souls. 

So, the soul of Severina Snape pressed her lips to the soul of Tom Riddle, who had once been the Dark Lord Voldemort. Lip to lip, she kissed him with a binding promise to love him fully, completely and truly, always. 

She pulled away to look at his face, the color returned to his lips and the purple faded from around his eyes. His eyes snapped open and he sucked in the deep-sighing breath of life. He blinked and looked at her… and smiled. 

Severina was still crying, her words coming out stuttered, “Oh, Tom, I love you.”

Tom raised himself up on his elbow as his opposite hand came up to cup her cheek. He looked into her eyes, and said, “I love you too, Severina.”

She gasped and held his face in her hands, hardly believing it to be true. He was whole and alive and he loved her. She kissed him desperately and he returned her fervor. 

Severina could still hear Lily’s voice beyond the door. She pulled away reluctantly. He pressed his lips against her forehead then, tilted her face up to look into his eyes and said, 

“I’ll come to you soon, my love, I promise.” 

“And then what? Once I wake?” She asked.

“I know I don’t deserve a second chance, but…”

“But you won’t get one here in Britain.” She said.

He looked at her and shook his head soberly. 

She nodded, “Then we will go away.”

“You’ll come with me?” His eyes full of hope and wonder with a hint disbelief.

“Of course.” Severina answered, wondering how he could doubt it.

He pulled her into his chest and held her, “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” She nuzzled her cheek against his warm chest- his heart beat reassuring and strong.

Tom got up and pulled Severina to her feet. He walked her to her door; their souls shared one last kiss before Severina walked through and returned to her body. As soon as she was beyond the door. Tom was cast into darkness and felt himself fall and land softly and swiftly into consciousness.

Tom opened his eyes against the dark, light poured through his window, pooling over him. He awoke in his bed. He felt his hand on his chest and something nestled in his fingers. He looked down at the object that lay gently in his grasp, atop his heart; and he smiled. 


	20. Surrender

Albus Dumbledore waited. Severina’s room was glamoured once more, nothing but white surrounded them. Severina lay asleep on the bed. The room was expanded to hold the majority of the Order. Albus didn’t know what to expect. It had been a slim chance to none that Tom would have put his soul back together or that he would surrender. 

Still, it had bought them time. All in all, the Dark Lord’s takeover hadn’t been as bad as it could’ve been. Other than the oppression of muggleborns, there hadn’t been any attacks on muggles due to the truce. Albus looked over to Severina and took her hand in his and patted it. 

He hadn’t meant… Well he had, he supposed. He had meant to use her. He had meant to sacrifice her as need be. He had meant for her to get close to Tom as a spy. She had been resilient to Tom's charms for a while. Her natural disinclination toward others in general and her innate occlumency had seemed the perfect combination for resisting Tom. Also, he had thought her love for Lily may have been more than platonic. So, he had been rather surprised when Severina fell in love with Tom. 

Severina had an unexpected ability to love. She didn’t love easily but when she did it was fully and completely. She loved him too. He had slipped into her mind enough to know that Severina had grown to love him as a father through their meetings together- playing chess and chatting about this or that. The most sobering thing about the way Severina loved was how she wasn’t blinded by it. She saw their faults and accepted them. Did she realized what a gift that was? She did it naturally. She didn’t struggle with it. It was simply a fact she acknowledged and factored into how she behaved around them, but it didn’t keep her from loving them wholly. 

He underestimated her and he underestimated how much, even a fraction of Tom, still craved that. Albus had seen it when Tom had been his student. He had tried to be his mentor but Tom twisted it and at the time Albus wasn’t strong enough to resist. Tom was underage, he couldn’t be blamed, it was Albus’s own fault and he’d never forgiven himself his weakness at that time. Tom had been so different and yet so similar to Gellert, it had made his heart ache. Albus had felt completely powerless to resist him. Then the Chamber of Secrets had opened and Myrtle Warren had been killed, Hagrid framed and Tom was acting strange. He had been suspicious but... 

Maybe if he’d been stronger, maybe if he hadn’t been so preoccupied with Gellert and his damn war, he could’ve prevented this war, but it had been too much to bare. It still was. 

Severina’s hand was cold and motionless in his. 

Tom loved her. When Tom had kissed her, she’d breathed his name. No one else had had any affect on her. Not Lily, not Remus, Regulus, Sirius, nor even himself. They all, in their way, loved her a little. Much too little it would seem or she was simply waiting for Tom. Even when she had those horrible dreams and she screamed and cried- for Tom. 

How could he have foreseen this? He knew Severina had enough similarities to Tom, that she could rise in his ranks. But to be his lover? It seemed unlikely. For her to fall in love with him and still hold to her loyalty to Lily and even to himself, was nothing short of a miracle. 

She was a dark witch, there was no doubt about that, but she walked the line between light and dark effortlessly. She had a resilience from the seduction of choosing either. As a student, Albus had been wary of her. She was just too similar to Tom without any of his charms. Now, however, he’d grown to truly admire her. 

He bent down and kissed her cold, slight fingers. Then he gently placed her hand back on the bed, beside her. And waited.

When Tom arrived, Albus nearly gasped in surprise. He was younger, he looked tired but young and healthy and his eyes held a mixture of peace and humility. He was changed. This was not Voldemort. This was not the Dark Lord. This was Tom- just Tom. 

“Hello, Albus.” He said.

“Hello, Tom.”

Tom looked at Severina asleep on the bed and smiled. He took a step toward her, but Albus held up his hand,

“Not until negotiations.”

Tom sighed through his nose and wiped his hand across his mouth. “Fine. What do you want?”

“Your surrender.” Albus said.

Tom looked at him lazily and unamused, “And what else?”

“The names of your more dangerous followers and allies both in Britain and abroad.”

“And what else?”

“Your vow to never to try start another war.”

“And what else?”

Albus narrowed his eyes... “The number of horcruxes you made and their locations.”

Tom’s eyes flitted to Severina and he smiled. “I agree to your terms.' He motioned to Severina. 'May I?”

Albus felt that this had been too easy. Tom approached the bed, sat beside her. He smiled warmly down at her, emotion clear in his eyes and his expression. He brushed her cheek with the back of his fingers, barely grazing her skin. Then he leaned over and pressed his lips to hers. As soon as his lips lifted, her skin regained its color, she breathed in deeply and her eyes opened. 

The first thing Severina saw when she woke was Tom’s beaming smile and his eyes full of love. Severina smiled in return and threw her arms about his neck. He pulled her up to a seated position and hugged her tightly. 

Tom's voice was muffled against the fabric on her shoulder, “I love you, Severina. I love you so much.”

“Oh, Tom, I love you too.’ She pulled away to look at him. His tear-filled eyes flitted over her face as if trying to memorize it. ‘Tom?’ His eyes rested on hers and she said, ‘I’m so proud of you.”

His chin quivered and he sucked in a breath. He dropped his head to her shoulder and squeezed her more tightly against him. Her hand stroked his neck and she rocked him gently. Looking around the room, she saw such wide ranging reactions from the Order members who stood in the room with them. 

Lily was crying and looked like she wanted to go to her but Potter was holding her back, looking cautious and suspiciously at Tom. Dumbledore had tears in his eyes but was carefully schooling his features. Sirius looked somberly at the floor, his eyes glanced at hers quickly while a smile tried to pull-up the corner of his lips. Lupin looked curious. Everyone else showed unabashed hate and suspicion. Well, she supposed they did deserve that- they had killed _a lot_ of people. 

Tom got up out of the bed and helped Severina to her feet. Lily, apparently, couldn’t wait any longer and Severina was nearly knocked back again onto the bed with her arms full of her auburn-haired friend. 

“Sev! You’re awake!” She cried.

Severina chuckled, “So it would seem,” and she hugged her friend back. 

Tom watched the two briefly, smiling sadly, before turning to Dumbledore and in a bland tone, “To the terms. I surrender.’ He pulled out a white handkerchief and waved it a little. He could hear Severina huff a laugh behind him. ‘A list of my more dangerous followers.' He pulled out a folded sheet of paper and held it up for Dumbledore to see before he laid it on the bed. He continued, 'I swear on my magic that I will never again try to start a war. As for my horcruxes,’ He turned to Severina, and reached his hand out to her. Severina pecked Lily’s cheek and squeezed her hand. Then, taking Tom’s she came to stand by his side. Tom looked at Dumbledore, ‘they’re gone. I’m no longer a divided soul.”

Wands raised to him instantly with a combined _whoosh_.

“So there’s nothing keeping you from dying right now?” Moody asked.

“Alastor, put your wand down.” commanded Dumbledore.

“He still needs to go to Azkaban.” said Bones.

“He doesn’t deserve a second chance.” spoke Gideon Prewett.

“He needs to face the consequences of what he’s done.” stated Frank Longbottom.

“All those people he’s killed… He’s responsible for countless deaths.” Fabian Prewett reminded them all.

Tom spoke up with that power in his voice he so easily wielded, “You’re right. I don’t deserve a second chance.’ He turned to Severina,

They stared into each others eyes for a brief moment. Severina turned to Tom and took hold of his other hand that held the handkerchief, its fabric pressing into her palm. Severina turned her head to face Lily, 

“Goodbye, Lily.” She whispered.

And they were gone. 

“Fuck!” growled Moody. 

Albus approached the bed and picked up the folded sheet of paper. As he picked it up it and tried to unfold it, he felt that he was unfolding sheets and sheets. The first sheet was the list of names Tom promised- it was shorter than he expected. After the list was his confession. Tom Riddle confessed every murder he ever committed- he listed those he imperioed and those he crusioed. He explained how Hagrid was innocent and how he framed Hepzibah Smith’s house-elf. He also explained how to take the curse off of the Defense Against the Dark Arts position. Dumbledore almost chuckled at that. After Tom accounted all his sins, he wrote that he was sorry. He wrote that he felt true remorse for all he’d done and it had killed him- Voldemort was dead, never to return. 

Dumbledore thought, _Voldemort was dead and the only thing that survived of Tom Marvolo Riddle was his love. If only all us monsters could find such happy endings._ His mind sighed morosely. 


	21. Mercy

Lily made her way to the dungeons of Hogwarts. Albus Dumbledore had hired two new professors besides herself before he retired. He was now traveling the globe looking for the perfect pair of socks, or at least the perfect yarn to knit the socks… or something. No one questioned him about it. 

The new DADA professor and the new Potions Mistress, Mr and Mrs. Smith, were a plain and very happy couple. He was charming and smiled and laughed a great deal. She was very serious, almost severe but she smile warmly, at times and there was something about her eyes that made Lily like her right away. Lily had made quick friends with both the new professors. With Harry being in his first year, it was shaping up to be one the happiest of Lily’s life. Her heart still ached for her lost friend, but she hoped she was somewhere safe, somewhere happy.

Lily taught Transfiguration, but she still enjoyed reading the Potions Journal regularly. She thought to share it with her new friend; as she approach, Professor Smith’s office she heard Mr and Mrs. Smith talking. She would’ve knocked or walked away but she heard her son Harry’s, name.

“I swear, that Harry Potter is going to be the death of me. He or that Longbottom boy.’ The DADA professor started to laugh, but he stopped abruptly, ‘Love, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, my dear... it's strange to be back after so long. Do you feel that way too?”

“Yes, certainly. You’ll never guess who I met in the Dark forest the other day,’ His voice went soft, ‘I wasn’t sure how to tell you… Nagini. She’s not forgiven me, but she said she was glad I was rid of my monster.” 

“I'd like to see Nagini again, maybe in time she can come live with us again. Give her a little more time, I think she'll come around. I certainly share her sentiment, I'm glad you're rid of your monster too." 

"Will you say it?" 

Mrs. Smith laughed fondly, "I love you, Tom.”

Lily thought she hadn’t heard correctly…

“I love you too, Severina,” said Mr. Smith.

Lily gasped and thoughtlessly walked in on the couple kissing. They pulled away quickly and Mr. Smith chuckled, but Mrs. Smith stared at Lily’s shocked face. 

“Sev?” Lily whimpered, striding towards Mrs. Smith and taking her hands in her own.

Mr. Smith’s face fell and with a wave of his hand, shut the door. The sound made Lily jump and her eyes widened, suddenly remembering who this man must be. His wife, however, gave her husband a long-suffering glare. 

“Lily won’t tell anyone, Tom.’ She turned to Lily and her eyes were pleading, ‘Will you Lily?”

Lily only shook her head. “I never thought I’d see you again… but what brought you back?”

Severina took Lily’s hand and placed it on the slight curve of her abdomen. Lily gasped. “A baby?’ Severina smiled and nodded. 

Severina explained, “We wanted him to grow up here, to study at Hogwarts when he’s of age.”

“Oh, Severina! Congratulations!’ Lily hugged her fiercely, pulling away saying, ‘Boys are wonderful.”

Tom groaned, “Boys? As in more than one? Merlin save me from your offspring woman. Harry nearly exploded me today during an _expelliarmus_ demonstration.

“Oh, but Severus is less _excitement_ prone than Harry.”

“Severus?” Severina asked.

“Yes… Well, if he’d been a girl, she’d have ben Severina.” Lily explained.

“Oh, Lily,’ Severina hugged her friend. ‘Thank you.”

“And you’re happy, Sev?”

“Yes, Lily, very happy.”

Lily turned to Tom who was looking at his wife with a softness she’d seen often in her own husband’s eyes and knew Severina spoke truth. 

Lily looked pointedly at Tom, “I promised I wouldn't tell, but do try to stay out of trouble?” 

Tom laughed, “I’ll do my best.”

Just then there was a rasp on the door and a Gryffindor first-year with a messy mop of hair and green eyes and wearing round glasses entered. Seeing all who occupied the room he nearly turned and left then and there. Tom called out to him,

“Looking for me, Harry Potter?”

Harry turned slowly on his heals, his shoulders and head drooping a little. He looked nervously at his mother before turning back to Tom. 

“Yes… I checked your office first, but figured you might be here… uh… I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for what happened today in class.” Harry said.

Tom walked up to Harry and ruffled his hair. “You’re a powerful wizard, Harry. You simply need to learn a bit of control. That’s why you’re here at Hogwarts and why I’m here. To teach you to be the best wizard you can be.”

Harry perked up and beamed up at Tom.

“You really think I’m powerful?” He asked.

Tom nodded and smiled warmly, “Indeed I do, Harry, but power isn’t everything.” 

No one spoke for a while and Harry looked confused at the adults in the room who seemed to know something he didn’t.

“Harry,’ Lily’s voice piped up, ‘I believe Sev should be finished with his tutor, would you like to visit for a while?’ Harry’s face instantly brightened at the prospect of seeing his brother. Lily turned to the _Smiths_ ‘Would you like to meet Severus?”

“I certainly would, thank you Mrs. Potter.” Tom said, with a grin and a sly look to his wife.

Severina’s face was neutral as she asked, “Does your Severus resemble his… brother?” 

Lily laughed, “Severus has black hair but otherwise favors me.”

“Thank Merlin for small mercies.” Severina mumbled under her breath. 

THE END


End file.
